


The Prince and the Queen

by Gyldayn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:22:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 129,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyldayn/pseuds/Gyldayn
Summary: Year 300 After Conquest. Essos.Despite his wishes, Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell does not join the Night's Watch.Instead he is sent across the Narrow Sea to try his fortune as sellsword, under tutelage of his kinsman.His mercenary path will bring him to Slaver's Bay where great change is taking place.A wolf lost and a dragon found.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 788
Kudos: 734





	1. BERON

_Yunkai, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**BERON**

_Of Yunkai, the yellow city, little needs be said, for it is a most disreputable place.  
The men who rule it, calling themselves the Wise Masters, are steeped in corruption, selling bed slaves and boy-whores and worse..._

What to think of a place whose main trait was to make and sell bed slaves. Queen of the cities, that was how Yunkai was called.  
So was Qarth. He saw them both in his life and only if he were to lose his wit would he grant Yunkai the right to call itself queen of anything.  
City was made of yellow bricks. Its walls were crumbling, there were towers and as in every city that Ghiscari have built centuries ago pyramids,  
tall and stepped stood. Yunkai was famous of the golden pyramid of Qaggaz.  
Above the main city gate, stood the creature he was always disgusted with. It had head and breasts and belly of a woman,  
but instead of arms there were wings of a bat, also there were no woman's legs but those of an eagle. Creature also had tail of a scorpion.  
To make sure all who enter Yunkai to know whom this city belonged to, this creature, harpy of Old Ghis had a whip and a slave iron collar in its talons.

The walls and towers of Yunkai today were swarmed with crossbowmen and slingers.  
Slave soldiers, mostly. Soldiers of a city that trained girls and boys to please men and women in bed, not to defeat hosts in the field.  
They made loud noise, still. Shouts, battle cries that were more like screams, curses in Yunkish Low Valyrian. It all pierced his ears.  
Behind him was a camp of the army which came to take Yunkai. Two camps, to be honest. One, with orderly rows, with tall pavilion at the center.  
Second camp was much larger than the first, five times even. It was a mess, a nightmare of any military commander.  
There were no tents, no horselines, no guards. It was not a camp of an army, but place where scores of women, children, old men rested, same as their livestock. Mules, goats, sheep.  
It sickened him to see that. That is not how one prepares for battle, by allowing thousands of newly freed slaves to follow you as beaten dogs.  
He wondered if anyone stayed in Astapor now that slavers were butchered, Unsullied taken away and other slaves went after their liberator.  
Most of curses which came from the walls were of that liberator. It began to bore him. Not that he cared much of what took place in Astapor.  
In truth, he could not care less.  
"Is my bow ready?" he asked the younger man standing next to him. "Aye." was the answer.  
"Then kindly give it to me." he said. "Walls are too far... it is an impossible shot."  
"You think so?" he smirked "I was making impossible shots while you were... Well in truth you weren't then."  
Younger man warned: "Should you miss, those on the wall will mock you."  
"Should I miss, I'll mock myself. The bow, if it pleases you..."

It was a longbow. Yet not any longbow.  
Most of men before the gates of Yunkai used double-curved horn-and-sinew bows of the east. Good weapon, yet not the best.  
Better than these were the yew longbows borne by the archers of Westeros and best of all were the great bows of goldenheart tree from Summer Islands. Only a dragonbone bow could outrange one made of goldenheart. And he had a longbow made of dragonbone.  
A far as he knew the only one ever made in the whole world.  
Bow was black as dragonbone was black for it had lot of iron in itself. As any other metal it was strong, yet lighter and more yielding.  
He had to kill few men to keep hold of this bow. And he was ready to kill many more.  
As he nocked and draw, in the corner of his eye he could see how from afar two Westerosi men, knights are watching him.  
They stood some four hundred yards away. And a young woman was standing between them.  
There was a captain on the walls, one that has already shown his manhood couple of times, calling the young woman with obscene names.  
Man released the arrow, then turned away, giving the bow to his younger companion to unstrung it, wrap it in cloth and put it away.  
He didn't even bother to see if his aim was good, sound of a body falling from the walls and shouts and curses told him that.  
One of two knights gave him a long gaze, same as he did to him. "Come, we shall go to our tent now." he said to the younger man.  
"They're speaking of you." "Let them speak." he shrugged. "Are we not insulting them by leaving so?" "We do."  
"Is that wise?" younger man asked. "Wise? No, it is not. But I have ceased caring of wise and wisdom many years ago."  


His name was Beron Stark. His father was Eyron, son of Rodrik Stark, the Wandering Wolf, who sired him with daughter of a Pentoshi merchant.  
She died when Eyron was a boy of only three namedays and her father and mother agreed with Rodrick for boy to stay in Pentos until he is man grown. Eyron stayed for rest of his life, not having interest to join his father in Westeros, while Rodrik married Arya Flint of the mountain clans  
and had two daughters, Branda and Lyarra Stark.  
Rodrik's daughter Lyarra was wed with his great-nephew, Rickard who was grandson of Rodrik's brother Willam Stark, Lord of Winterfell.  
Rickard sired with Lyarra, his first cousin once removed, four children: sons Brandon, Eddard and Benjen and one daughter named Lyanna.  
Beron was born in Pentos in the same year when his kinsman Brandon was born in Winterfell.  
Eyron wed Melissa Ennel, daughter of Pentoshi magister of Andal blood.  
After Eyra and Wenela, a son was born to a Pentoshi offspring of Wandering Wolf.  
He was named after his grandsire, Beron. Unlike his father, Beron wished to see the world, same as his grandfather from Winterfell.  
When he was seven and ten years old, ship took him across the Narrow Sea to White Harbor from where he rode to the holdfast of House Stark.  
Beron was well received there by his kinfolk, lady Lyarra Stark was his aunt while lord Rickard and him were second cousins.  
It was known that Rodrik had a son in Pentos and as he was fifth son of lord of Winterfell Beron Stark, these Pentoshi Starks had almost no claim  
to Winterfell. That made family relations even more cordial, though Beron assured Rickard and Lyarra of Eyron having no interest in Westeros whatsoever. This branch of Stark family was wholly of Essos, save their name which will last only until there are male descendants.  
"Pentos is our home and our land. My father has sent you a letter and asked me to pay respect to his father in the crypts of Winterfell.  
He never crossed the Narrow Sea in his life nor he ever will." Beron said at the supper with Rickard, Lyarra and their children.  
"And you, young Beron? Do you find the North to your liking?" lord of Winterfell asked.  
"My lord..." he replied in Common Tongue with accent that was equally odd as one his hosts spoke with  
"...I wish not to offend you, but Pentos is as south as King's Landing is, only across the sea.  
I am a man of south and I have no shame admitting it. I plan to try my luck in King's Landing."  
Brandon Stark smirked at him and was about to say something belittling to his guest, but lord Rickard spoke first:  
"A man honest can never offend me, cousin Beron. I don't see you thriving in the North as well.  
What do you intend to do in the capital of Seven Kingdoms?"  
"My lord, I've been holding bravo's sword since I was three and ten. And spear. And bow, most of all. I planned to join the City Watch."  
"Gold cloaks? Why would you do that?" Brandon nearly laughed.  
"I am, despite the name my grandfather left me, a foreigner. I can't hope for getting rich swift.  
And, just as Wandering Wolf served in a sellsword company, I see fit for me to serve in the City Watch."  
Rickard paused for a moment, then nodded: "Indeed it is. And with your name and should your skills be as you claim they are,  
I see you rising in the ranks of gold cloaks swiftly. I shall even write a letter to certain member of Small Council to recommend you.  
But first, we should all see your skills with weapons, cousin. For that, you will remain guest of Winterfell for a moon or two." 

Beron remained for nearly four moons before he rode south, down the kingsroad.  
Brandon, heir to lord Rickard, misliked him at first, but as Beron has proven to be his match in swordfight and far better in archery,  
Wild Wolf warmed up to him and two kinsmen became friends during Beron's stay in Winterfell. Eddard was polite to him, but Pentoshi Stark  
find Ned to be a bit boring, unlike his other cousin, Lyanna. Then a girl of three and ten namedays, only daughter of lord of Winterfell saw Beron  
as welcome novelty in rather uneventful life in Stark castle. First time they went riding, she amazed him how skilled rider she was.  
"Are you a Stark or a damn Dothraki?" he said as they were resting their horses on a ridge.  
She laughed aloud before asking: "Do Dothraki women carry swords?" "No, only men."  
"Then I care not of listening about them." she dismissed further talk of the Essosi horselords.  
"You want to carry a sword?" Beron asked. "I do. But my lord father will never allow it."  
"It is not usual for women to carry swords, here or in Essos. Well, there are tales of warrior maids of Samyriana and Kayakayanaya..."  
"Kayakaya... what?" she chuckled. "Kayakayanaya. Tales say it's a city in far corner of Essos, thousands of miles from Pentos."  
"And they have women warriors there as well?" "Only women are warriors there." Beron said. "And men? Do they not fight?"  
"No, Lyanna, stories say that from hundred boys, only one is not gelded." "Gods! So many eunuchs! What do they do?"  
"All other work than warring, I suppose. Yet, not all tales from far east of Essos are to be trusted lightly, cousin."  
"Tell me more. I want to know of that queer continent you've come from." "There is nothing queer in Pentos, Lyanna."  
As they slowly rode back to the castle, he told her more strange tales of eastern lands and she enjoyed them all.

Beron also grew to like the youngest of his aunt's children, Benjen.  
He was eleven years old then, a sweet child if Beron were a good judge of that.  
Youngest of Stark siblings was secretly sparing in swordplay with his sister and oft he was losing which angered him every time.  
Much to Lyanna's amusement, Beron began to train Benjen in the ways of bravo's swordsmanship, but it clashed with what Winterfell master at arms, Ser Rodrik Cassel was teaching the poor boy. After a few sennights of learning how to wield a blade in manner of Westeros and manner of Free Cities, Benjen ended up doing both wrong. He was even more angry, while his sister was even more amused. Those were good days for Beron. And a treasured memory of his youth.  
On the day of his departure from Winterfell, he bid farewell to all his young cousins and aunt Lyarra.  
Lord Rickard accompanied him on his horse for nearly half a mile down the kingsroad. He gave him a letter to one member of the Small Council.  
"I wish you good fortune, cousin. You may be a young man, but I see qualities of a good leader in you.  
And those shits in City Watch will see them as well. It will not be a surprise to me if you were to become a commander in a year or two.  
To have a Stark in place of influence in King's Landing is always a good thing."

Lord Rickard was right when he said that, twenty-three years ago. It was always wise and with good reason for great houses of Westeros  
to have one of their own in the capital, the nearer to the throne the better. Having a commander in the City Watch, had its uses and Rickard Stark, unlike those who ruled the North before him, had ambitions in the south. Wisdom and good reasoning do seldom fail in times of sanity.  
And always fail in times of madness. Those were the times Beron Stark of Pentos rode towards in year 277. After Conquest.  


Beron was sitting down on a small wooden stool, before his double bell wedge tent, enjoying the shade that grey canvas provided.  
Next to his was another tent of similar making, though this one was smaller and belonged to the young man who took care of his bow.  
He was of same age now as Beron was when he served in City Watch of King's Landing, two decades ago.  
Three hundred years exactly have passed since Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros or most of it and made Seven Kingdoms.  
And forty years since Beron Stark was born in Pentos, to Eyron and Melissa. He was still a comely man, with dark-brown hair and long face which spoke loudly of his Stark ancestry, though his eyes were not grey but brown, same as his Pentoshi grandmother's eyes were.  
His clothes were of same colors, brown linen sleeveless surcoat over grey tunic and black trousers, light attire, fit for weather of Slaver's Bay.  
Beron was chewing an apple when he saw a man approaching. It was one of the knights that watched him take down a Yunkish officer with  
an arrow. That knight was an older man, passed his sixtieth nameday, of white hair and trimmed beard of same color.  
His clothes seemed a bit shabby, he donned dark-grey shirt and breeches and dark leather surcoat over it. An image of exiled, poor knight.  
He was a tall man and moved gracefully, despite his age. In his youth, women have found him handsome and that had not changed with time.  
Nor have man's blue eyes. Beron knew him well.  
Elderly knight halted his pace as he came before the tent and gave Beron a long, silent gaze.  
"Those who see ghosts tend to look that way." he said to his unexpected guest.  
"No, I see the boy I knew, in the man before me... lord Beron Stark." "And I see even older knight than one I knew, Ser Barristan Selmy."  
"Beron Stark... I knew it. Only three men could have made that shot with the bow. And two of them are long dead. So, it had to be you."  
"And it was me. So, you were right." Beron said dryly "Though I doubt that was the reason you came all this way, from your part of the camp."  
"No, it was not. I did not even expect for your sellswords to be in Slaver's Bay. Are not Free Cities and lands between them place where you earn your pay?" "I earn my pay in many ways, Ser." "Yes. I have heard stories of a rich trader from Pentos who has company of three hundred mounted men in Disputed Lands, and joins them in campaigns for his own amusement, not that he needs it."  
Beron narrowed his eyes: "Oh, I need it, Ser. I need it greatly."  
"And now you are here, besieging Yunkai." Barristan said which made Beron to chuckle:  
"Besieging? Far from it. In truth, it were Wise Masters who invited me to fight for them and it did not take too long to sail from Volantis to here.  
But your army, I'll be generous enough to call it an army, came here first making my arrangement with Yunkish a bit harder to come to pass."

Barristan shook his head: "What happened to you, Beron Stark?"  
"It was not as easy for me as it was for you to forget...You know what I speak of, don't you?"  
Old knight sighed: "He was your friend."  
"And they were my family!" Beron replied loudly "You were there. I saw you. You hit Brandon across his face that night, when he came before  
Red Keep, seeking his sister and justice. Tell me, old man, how great was the honor you felt when Mad King had my cousin Rickard roasted  
in his armor and his firstborn strangled as he tried to reach the sword to free his father? You served that madman, you bled for him at Trident."  
"I have bled with Prince Rhaegar. For Prince Rhaegar. Not for Aerys..."  
"For Rhaegar? Ha... yes, he was my friend. A good friend. What he did..."  
"He loved lady Lyanna, that I am sure of. And he would never rape..." "I know he would not, Ser Barristan. And I know what she felt for him.  
I wish I did not, but I do know. And that is the saddest part of it... Be sure of this , Ser Barristan, Beron Stark you once knew died.  
He died with Rickard and Brandon, he died with Rhaegar on Trident, he died with Lyanna in Dorne. He died with little Rhaenys and Aegon,  
and with Elia who suffered the most. So, kindly do not ask again what happened to that young man you once knew, Ser."  
Old knight remained silent for a while, then he made a nod. Beron nodded back, then said: "You did not come here to dwell on past, right?"  
"No. Her Grace wishes to meet the man who silenced the walls of Yunkai. After you struck that captain down, no more insults came.  
Queen wishes to thank you in person." Beron shrugged: "I did not do it for her. Noise they were making began to hurt my ears."  
"Still, you're expected to answer Her Grace's call." Barristan said with stern voice. Beron crossed his hands: "Tell me... is she worth it?  
Crossing the Narrow Sea at your age... fighting again when you could be enjoying your... but, Kingsguard does not retire, do they?  
It's a service for life. And yet you're here and not in Harvest Hall, relishing in your old age, teaching young shits how to hold a blade..."  
"As you've said, Beron Stark, Kingsguard is service for life. And now I serve in Queensguard of Daenerys Targaryen, First of Her name."  
"So, you have served a madman, a drunk, shortly even a boy who according to some is fruit of brother-sister fuckery.  
I've heard of him dismissing you. Such news travel across the Narrow Sea. An insult, but what can one expect from Lannisters.  
And now... you serve Mad King's daughter. Hardly an improvement." Barristan placed hand on the hilt of his sword:  
"I prefer to think I serve Rhaegar's sister." Beron sighed before saying in solemn tone: "If only that were true. He would have made a great king.  
I hold that belief, even after all these years. Alas, as you've said... he loved my cousin Lyanna and thousands died for it."  
"You should give his sister a chance, then." Barristan said. 

"Give chance to whom?" asked the voice from smaller tent and a dark-haired young man came out, wearing only white shirt,  
one that needed washing many days ago, and dark trousers. Barristan turned towards this young man and gave him a frowning gaze.  
He was no more than eight and ten, of long face and grey eyes, graceful and lean. All the Stark traits, but also some that weren't.  
Young man was as frozen in the spot when he saw Barristan's assessing look. Beron smirked: "Again, Ser, you seem as you've seen a ghost.  
Which is odd, as this boy here indeed owns a large dog named exactly so." "It's not a dog, but a direwolf." came the rebuttal.  
"Where are your manners, present yourself to Ser Barristan Selmy." Young man's eyes glowed when he heard that name.  
Then he said: "My name is Jon Snow, Ser." Old knight turned to Beron again: "Snow?"  
"What? You thought he was mine? No, you knew his father well. Jon's father is my cousin... was my cousin. Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell."  
Barristan's features changed right that moment: "I am sorry for what they did to your father. He was an honorable man.  
And he feared not dying before dishonoring himself." Jon nodded: "I thank you for your words, Ser." Then he looked at Beron.  
"Jon, Ser Barristan brought us the invitation of his queen. She wants to see me."  
"You should accept that honor, cousin."  
"Should I? Well... an old man told me I should... a young man told me I should. I guess then that I should."  
"Very well." knight of Queensguard said "You are expected in Her Grace's pavilion at sunset. Do not be tardy, she will not look upon it well."  
Beron smirked again, but Selmy did not see that as his back was already turned and he walked away.  


Beron summoned his young cousin to his tent as there was less than half an hour till sundown.  
Jon was pacing around impatiently and Beron knew that he was curious to meet this girl queen which some of her followers called Khaleesi.  
"Have you washed yourself?" he asked? "I did." Jon answered. "Trimmed your... well, let's call it a beard."  
"Yes." came second reply, this one more irked. "Good. And I see you've donned clean tunic and breeches and your best belt.  
Still that will not do. Here, take this." He threw a folded piece of clothing at Jon who slowly unfold it.  
A gray linen overcoat with Stark direwolf embroidered on the left chest. Same as Beron was about to put on.  
"I can't wear this." "Why? Is it the wrong size?" "No, but..."  
"But what?" "I am not a Stark." Jon said, his voice more dry than usual. "You have more Stark blood than I do.  
And since I am the only trueborn Stark from here to Pentos, I tell you to wear this overcoat. Or I will go and meet this Targaryen girl alone."  
"Were you truly friend with Prince Rhaegar?" "So... you've overheard me and Selmy..."  
"It was hard not to..."  
"Yes. I was his friend. As one could be friend of such a man."  
"He kidnapped and raped my aunt. And you say he loved her."  
"Have you ever heard that from your father? Of Rhaegar kidnapping and raping Lyanna?" Jon shook his head.  
"Stories differ depending on the mouth from which they come from." Beron told him.  
"When will I hear your story of Robert's Rebellion?" Jon's voice rang with curiosity of youth.  
"Never."


	2. JON

_Winterfell, Westeros, year 298 After Conquest_

**JON**

_In my dreams, I kill him every night...  
It is done, Your Grace, Targaryens are gone.  
Not all of them..._

Smoke and smell. Roasted meat and baked bread. It filled the Great Hall of Winterfell.  
Its walls were never as lively as this night. Instead of stone grey, one could now set his eyes on white, gold, crimson.  
Banners. Stark direwolf, Baratheon stag, Lannister lion. Near the dais, where Lord and Lady of Winterfell hosted King Robert and Queen Cersei, there was a singer on the harp, but here where Jon was seated, he barely could hear him. What he heard was fire roaring in the hearth,  
plates and cups clanging and people. People talking, mumbling, some drunk, some not, some nearing to be drunk.  
Welcome feast for the king entered its fourth hour. There, just beneath the dais, near the royal couple and their children,  
were his brothers and sisters. His father allowed each a bit of wine, glass and no more. Where he was, he could drink as he wanted. And he did.  
Those around him were young men, from king's or queen's escort, filling his ears with stories of hunt and bedding and battles.  
He concluded they were more interesting company than princes and princess which his half-siblings were to entertain.  
Under the table was his direwolf pup of white fur and red eyes. Ghost. Another reason why it was better to be seated here than nearer to King and Queen. His brothers and sisters were not allowed to bring their direwolves so close to royal family, but where Jon was it mattered not as there were many hounds present. Jon just let a fine piece of chicken to fall under the table when his uncle came to sit on the bench next to him: "Feeding your pet? If one can call direwolf so?"  
"Feeding a direwolf pup and getting yourself drunk at the same time, am I right?" Jon smiled. "That answers my question well enough."  
Benjen looked once more at the Ghost before asking: "You're seated here with a reason."  
Jon nodded: "Lady Stark thought it might be an insult to the royal family to seat a bastard among them."  
"King, as far as I know him may not even care of that, but his Queen... that is another matter."  
Jon nodded and then, after a short silence, he said: "Take me with you when you go back to the Wall."  
"Wall is no place for a boy, Jon." "I'll be soon six and ten, uncle." "That still does not make you a man."  
"Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne,” Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes.  
"He was indeed. That conquest was short-lived. Same as Daeron himself. Dead four years later. At eight and ten."  
"I want to serve in the Night’s Watch, uncle." "Why?" Benjen asked "What are your reasons? And say them truthfully."  
Jon sighed: "Uncle... Robb will one day be the Lord of Winterfell, Bran and Rickon will be his bannermen and rule holdfasts.  
Arya and Sansa will marry heirs of other great houses and be ladies of castles of their own, somewhere in the south. What can I earn as bastard?"  
Now it was Benjen who sighed: "I see you've given this a lot of thought. Thought young mind should not have." He paused for a while, then said:  
"The Night’s Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Some say that wife is duty and our mistress is honor." "A bastard can have honor too." Jon insisted. Benjen shook his head: "You're not a man, Jon, not yet. Until you have known a woman,  
you cannot understand what you would be denying yourself of, for a lifetime.” “I don’t care about that!” Jon said.  
“You might, if you knew what it meant...” Benjen answered "... when a man does not know how truly high the price is, he is more willing to pay it. You're acting as that now." "What are you saying, uncle?"  
"That you should be a father, even of bastards, before thinking of taking black and the Wall."  
"I will never father bastards! Never!"  
He said that too loud, as all at the table were now looking at him.  
"I must be excused..." he barely said, before rushing out of the hall and on the courtyard. Not long after, he spoke with one they called the Imp.

“Jon must go,” said lady Catelyn Stark. That was her hard stance as she and lord Eddard were discussing what tomorrow brings to their children.  
Sansa and Arya were to go south, to King's Landing with Ned, same as Bran. Robb, nearly man grown and Rickon, the youngest were to remain,  
at Winterfell. It was plain that Ned Stark hoped Jon will remain as well. But his lady wife would have none of it.  
“He cannot stay here,” she said “He is your son, not mine. I will not have him.” She would not have living memory of Ned's infidelity before her eyes, not with her husband thousand leagues away. Ned himself knew that it will do no good for Jon to leave him at Winterfell.  
Nor he could take him south, to the capital. Northern boy with bastard's name would only be shunned at the court. “Many say of your friend, King Robert being a father of a dozen bastards..." “And none of them was ever allowed at court! Cersei saw to that.  
You are cruel, Catelyn. Jon is only a boy..." Voice of Lord of Winterfell rang with fury and it would ring even more and louder had it not been  
for maester Luwin: "My lord, it appears that Jon greatly wishes to take the black. Your brother Benjen told me of it." Hearing this was hardly calming to Ned: “He asked to join the Night’s Watch?” His voice marked with surprise and not the welcome one.  
Catelyn said nothing. Having Jon on the Wall was the perfect solution. Benjen was a brother of a Night's Watch. Jon would be as a son to him.  
And in time this bastard boy would take the oath as well. He would father no sons who might someday contest with Catelyn’s own grandchildren for Winterfell. Maester Luwin said, “There is great honor in service on the Wall, my lord.”  
“And even a bastard may rise high in the Night’s Watch...” Ned added "...still, Jon is too young. If he asked this when he was a man grown,  
that would be one thing, but a boy of barely six and ten …” “Indeed, a great sacrifice for someone so young.” Maester Luwin agreed.  
“Far too great, maester. Not long ago I have beheaded a deserter from the Night's Watch. Young minds are oft wavery."  
"You fear that Jon's wish to become the man of the Night's Watch will vanish the moment he set his eyes on the Wall?"  
"That can surely happen, maester. I would be good for the boy to get a taste of this world before he takes on the black."  
Catelyn frowned as she wished for her husband to approve of his bastard going to the Wall, disappearing from her life forever.  
Ned did not see that as he gazed out the window, immersed in his thoughts. It seemed he was near of approving it, much to his wife's joy,  
but Luwin was first to speak: "My lord, as this boy cannot stay here after you leave for the capital nor he can go with you there  
and you see him as still too young to be taking oath of the Night's Watch, mayhaps there is a solution. Outside Westeros."  
Lady Stark's eyes widened from surprise and Ned turned around: "What are you telling me, maester?"  
"Send Jon to your kinfolk at Pentos. For a year, not more. I trust for that time there he will, forgive me for saying so my lady,  
become a man in every way. Should he be so keen on taking black as he is now after that year has passed, then let him go to the Wall."  
Catelyn misliked this offer: "And what if he were to change his mind? What then? Where will he go then?" Luwin replied calmly:  
"Nowhere, my lady. Lord Eddard can command him to remain in Pentos. Or he can return to Westeros, but never here.  
Jon is one among tens, if not hundreds, bastards of lords, great and small, on this continent and all live their lives far from their fathers."  
Next she nodded: "This seems fair to me, my lord. To us all and to your son." Ned looked at her, then at his maester: "So be it."

_Pentos, Essos, year 298 After Conquest_

His eyes always went north and west. Far from square brick towers of this strange city, far from its massive high walls.  
He thought of the North, of wolfswood and of green hills around the castle that was the only home he ever knew.  
Sunset Kingdoms was that land called here. Horselord from the plains called it _Rhaesh Andahli_ , the land of the Andals.  
But it did not belong whole to Andals. Not the North. North was of his people, of First Men. Most of he thought of the Wall,  
picturing it in his mind, hoping it will not be soon before he becomes one of the watchers on the walls, the shield that  
guards the realms of men. The sword in the darkness...  
"The sword in the darkness that does not actually own the sword..." his host mocked him.  
Beron Stark of Pentos was as no Stark Jon ever knew or read of. He found Jon's wish to join the Night's Watch as a folly.  
"The Wall? Night's Watch? Ha!" Beron grinned at him the first time they saw each other "No wonder Ned shipped you here.  
Tell me, boy, what do you think Night's Watch is? A military order of honorable men? It was so, long time ago.  
Now it is a place where Seven Kingdoms sends its worst sons... killers, rapers, outlaws, poachers, thieves...  
Those few decent men wearing black as my cousin, your uncle Benjen is, do not change that."  
"You don't know that!" Jon replied.  
"Oh, it angers you I see. Well, boy, I do now that very well. Before you were even born, I was commander in the City Watch.  
And twice a year at least, brothers of the Night's Watch would come to King's Landing. Do you know for what purpose?"  
Jon shrugged. "To take from the dungeons all those willing to trade the prison of iron bars and chains for the prison of snow and ice."  
"It is an honor to serve in the Night's Watch. Starks have manned the Wall for thousands of years." Jon said, bit angry.  
"That is true. Yet tell me, save your uncle, how many Starks have in last hundred years or so manned the Wall?  
Will any of your little half-brothers be joining you there? They will not. And you as well should not see taking black  
as a way to live the rest of your years. To be a bastard is no crime, Jon. Your father was wise to send you here.  
Someone as young as you should taste life, true life, before trading it for standing watch on the edge of the world."  
"My mind is set, lord Beron. When my year in Pentos is over, I will take ship to Eastwatch by the Sea. That is on the Wall."  
"I know where that is, boy... Well then, as your mind seems to be so firmly set, then it will be best for you to spend that year  
doing what will be of use to you on the Wall." Beron said, grinning at him.  
Jon frowned at his kinsman: "What will I be doing? Going to Free Cities with you as a merchant?" "Merchant?"  
"That is what you do, is it not?" "Some of my wealth come from trade, that is true. But not all of it. You will do no trading."  
"Then what?" he asked impatiently. Beron gave him a stern look and Jon lowered his head: "I did not mean to disrespect..."  
"You will be holding sword, holding spear, breaking shields. Killing people, if need be. In my company of sellswords."  
"Company of sellswords...?" Jon's eyes widened "But father said you are a merchant of spices and so..."  
"Lord Eddard Stark was surely not obliged to share all he knew of me, his cousin, to a mere boy, was he?" Beron cut him off.  
"No, he was not..." Jon nodded "...It's just... you don't seem as leader of sellswords to me." "I am more than I seem, Jon Snow.  
And... save wielding arms, and this I advise you strongly, you should be bedding women. Of all colors, shapes and sizes, my boy.  
You'll miss that on the Wall." "You want me to lie down with whores. I will not." Jon hissed. Beron laughed aloud:  
"Whores? You can't afford a whore, not yet at least. For you have no gold or silver coins to spend it on whores.  
But if you're half as good with the sword as you claim to be..." "I am." Jon said, his voice booming with confidence.  
"That we shall soon put to test, my young cousin."

"Hm... there's a lot of Stark in you, my dear boy, and yet not much of your lord father. I've met him once.  
In the year of the fall of dragon kings. I have come to King's Landing with a ship to take my son back to Pentos."  
Melissa Ennel Stark told Jon while they were breaking fast together on the terrace of Beron's house.  
Pentoshi Starks called their home a house, though it was still a manse of a rich merchants, not richest of them, but certainly it was not a shack.  
Lady Melissa was a woman of four and fifty namedays, her face was mild and hair still more light-brown than grey.  
Her green eyes were piercing as she studied Jon while he was enjoying eggs and sausage and blood orange juice.  
"Your father seemed to me as son any mother could wish for. Tempered, calm, quiet. Not like my son.  
Beron has this wolf blood of his grandsire. It skipped my husband, Eyron, and I thanked the Seven for it, that he was not as Rodrik.  
But Wandering Wolf returned to this family with Beron. First thing he did as man grown was to flee across the Narrow Sea,  
to see Sunset Kingdoms, to see his kin in Winterfell. I should have stopped him then... a boy went to Westeros and four years later  
a man grown has met me in the quay of King's Landing. Hardened and bitter. And lusting for battle still. It's that cursed Stark wolf blood...  
any of you who has it is driven by it to do stupid things. Beron is no exception. What of you, young man? Do you have the wolf blood?"  
Jon shrugged: "I cannot tell. I am not a Stark." She smirked: "No, you're a Snow. And to your misfortune, you are of the North.  
If you were Dornish and your name were Sand no one would care if your father sired you out of wedlock, with a paramour.  
This way, it was Essos and then the Wall for you. It is not a proper fate for someone as young as you are..."  
"I don't need anyone to pity me!" Jon said aloud, but right next moment became aware he raised voice at his host.  
Melissa smirked: "Wolf blood you do have. I hope that years will chill it, for your own sake, young Jon. Learn from Beron.  
Not only by his example, but by his wrongdoings as well... and there are many." Jon looked at her: "He is your son and you speak of him so..."  
"I do, for I am a mother..." she smiled at Jon "...my dear boy, I wish you never to set foot on that Westerosi wall of ice, but to have a family.  
A wife and many children. She will love you or not, they will obey you or not... but only then you will understand why I speak of Beron so."

It was said that Old Valyria had nine daughters. Nine Free Cities. Of which one was a bastard. Braavos.  
Founded by a fleet of escaped Valyrian slaves. Pentos, being a trueborn slaver city, took no small part in slave trade.  
That led Pentos into conflict with its northern neighbor. In two hundred years, six wars were fought between these two cities.  
On the issue of slavery, but also for having sway over lands and waters that lie between two Free Cities. Pentos won only two wars of six,  
which brought Pentoshi into submission to Braavos. Sixth war, more than ninety years ago, was the one which made Pentos to sue for peace.  
Terms were not easy for city which magisters ruled. Slavery was abolished in the city and slave trade had to be abandoned.  
Pentos, by these peace accords, was made to reduce its military strength to city watch and fleet was forbidden to grow over twenty warships.  
Hiring sellswords and free companies was forbidden as well. Nine decades of being stripped of force in arms made Pentoshi people  
less war-thirsty than their neighbors in other Valyrian daughter cities, Tyrosh, Myr or Lys. Still, those wise and sly can bend any accord,  
even one of peace, more to their liking. Pentos did not partake in slave trade. And yet it did. Ships of the city that carried chained cargo,  
did so by sailing under banners of Myr or Lys. Within city walls, there were tens of thousands of men and women called _free bond servants_.  
Slaves in all but name. Collared, branded, punished. Same as true slaves in Free Cities south of Pentos.  
Under Pentoshi law these men and women were considered free and with right not to serve any whim of their masters.  
Yet, that was possible under one condition. That free bond servant is not in debt to his or her master. Almost all of them were.  
And that was no wonder as they were paid for their work less than it was cost of accommodation, clothing and food given to them by masters.  
Debts of these slaves in all but name were growing with every passing day of their service. Slavery in this manner lived on in Pentos.  


In the same sennight when King Robert Baratheon, First of His Name, went to hunt for boars, Jon rode through the southern gates of Pentos.  
Beron was with him, same as no more than ten riders, Beron's escort. About dozen pack mules went with them as well. They appeared as merchants. Though only to those that could not tell men at arms posing as trades from true traders.  
At dawn of fifth day, they were nearing Myr. Thirty miles north of the city, Jon saw Beron's men for the first time.  
A free company of heavy horse, counting no more than four hundred.  
They were not the largest company in number, many had more men, but were known of their discipline and always standing ground.  
Company banner was grey and white, Jon liked seeing them fluttering over many tents. It did not escape Beron.  
"I thought it was proper for this company to ride under Stark colors, even if men beneath them are seldom of Westeros, most are of Free Cities."  
"What is this company called?" Jon asked next. Beron smiled: "We had no name when we rode out into our first battle, against Company of the Cat. These days they number some three thousand men. That day there was five times as many of them than us and we broke them,  
south of Myr. Some jester said that Company of the Cat fled before the Company of the Wolf... and the name remained."  
"I like it." Jon said joyfully. "You do. Your father would not, nor your uncle. Nor your late grandfather. Your uncle Brandon, he'd like it.  
I dare say, he would come to ride with this company had it existed when he and I were young as you are now."

"Are we riding to battle?" Jon asked next as they were entering the camp.  
"Mayhaps. Mayhaps not. It depends not on us, but on those hired by Tyrosh."  
"Who are those?" he was eager to know. "Windblown. Maiden's Men. Gallant Men." Beron replied.  
"How many men they all have?" Jon wondered. "All three combined five thousand, give or take."  
"Who fights for Myr besides us?" Beron chuckled: "So... it is _us_ already... Company of the Cat fights for Myr as well."  
"But, you've said..." "I did. That year, two companies had contracts with two different cities. This year both fight for Myr.  
Next year... only gods know to whom them and us shall be selling our swords." Beron shrugged.  
"Five thousand or more against three thousand of Cats and four hundred of Wolves." Jon did fast counting.  
His kinsman grinned: "Not exactly. It is more like five thousand against over four and ten thousand.  
Myr has signed a contract with the Golden Company. You've heard of them, right?"  
Jon nodded, glad to heard this. "Well, should it come to battle, you may witness the war elephants. That is a sight you will not see in Westeros."  



	3. DAENERYS

_Yunkai, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**DAENERYS**

_How many slaves are there in Yunkai?_  
_Two hundred thousand, if not more._  
_Then we have two hundred thousand reasons to take the city._

"Show me your cunt. I want to see if it's worth fighting for." Mero of Braavos said, sitting next to her.

"My queen, should I slice out his tongue for you?" Grey Worm asked the very next moment, in High Valyrian. 

"These men are our guests." she replied calmly, before addressing the leaders of Second Sons again: "You seem to be enjoying my wine.

Perhaps you would like a flagon to help you ponder." 

"Only a flagon?" Mero said, not without smirk "And what are my brothers in arms to drink?"

"A barrel, then." she said, forced smile not leaving her face.

"Good." Mero said standing up "The Titan's Bastard does not drink alone." He and his two companions were leaving her pavilion.

Mero turned to her one more time and said: "In the Second Sons we share everything. After the battle, maybe we will all share you." 

Then he slapped Missandei on her bottom: "I'll come looking for you when this is over." Her discomfort was visible. 

Daenerys gazed at the man leaving with threatening gaze: "Ser Barristan, if it comes to battle, kill that one first." 

"Gladly, Your Grace." knight of Queensguard replied.

She nodded back to him. No matter the mislike she felt of these men, Daenerys received the leaders of the Second Sons.

Two thousand mounted sellswords arrived under the walls of Yunkai two days before, returning hope to Wise Masters who before that tried to pay her to leave. to avoid the fate of Astapor. They offered gold and ships for her to leave and sail to Westeros. She offered them their lives. In return of release of every slave in Yunkai, but not before every man, woman and child is given as much food, clothes and property as they can carry. That was to be payment for the years of their servitude. _Reject this gift and I shall show you no mercy_ , were her words and that was enough for Yunkish envoy to call her madwoman. And then he threatened her, with powerful friends. 

_Sellswords are hardly anyone's friends,_ was her thought as she looked how Titan's Bastard, Prendhal na Ghezn and young lieutenant of Second Sons, one named Daario Naharis are riding out from her camp. To them she offered gold and castles and lordships of their choosing should they fight for her and help her take back the Seven Kingdoms. They scorned her offer. That will surely not discourage her. She had her eight thousand Unsullied. And she was determined to take the city.

Day was warm and all she could think of now is to have a bath. It almost made her chuckle, but it was so. She received the sellsword leaders in her sleeveless blue dress, dark-grey trousers and boots of same color. Not a perfect attire for this weather. A wish to retire came to her and she rose from her cushioned seat on the dais that was placed in this pavilion, thinking of her private tent where she could bathe. In less than an hour, sun will be behind these barren Yunkish hills. She wanted to rest.

"My Queen..." Barristan Selmy said "...that bowman you invited. I see him coming." 

Daenerys nearly forgot of that. And I was only this morning. Yunkish commanders were shouting insults from the walls. _Silver whore_ , seemed to be their favorite, but there were others, far more profane, that mated her with horses and donkeys and camels. She suffered those in silence, not showing to anyone that it does insult her. It was less matter of her pride, it was more matter of those inside the walls of yellow city, those two hundred thousand slaves. With every new curse or insult thrown at her, Wise Masters were becoming more emboldened, more certain that this young girl which in their minds stole a whole army from Astapor and many other slaves, cannot hurt them. When arrow took the loudest of them down, she was pleased, so much that she wanted to meet that archer. Ser Barristan went to find him. And found him he did. Her pleasure lessened when she heard this man's name. 

"Stark? One of Usurper's dogs? They fought against my father and my family. They've butchered my brother's children." was the first she said to Barristan.

"That was Lannister doing. Starks had nothing to do with it, Your Grace. Beron was Rhaegar's friend. His kinsman Eddard Stark was so disgusted with murder of those babes..." old knight began to talk.

"Eddard Stark? Robert Baratheon's best friend? They're the same. They rebelled against their true king, overthrow and murdered my family and stole our throne. Baratheon, Lannister, Stark. All the same." 

Barristan slightly shook his head: "Your Grace, when King Robert ordered your assassination, Eddard Stark resigned as his Hand. For he saw it as dishonor, same as he saw killing of Rhaegar's children." 

"He fought for the Usurper, Ser. Starks are the enemy. Had I known this man was a Stark, I would never..." Selmy nodded: "You still need not to receive him. Yet, he could see that as an insult and company he commands could go over to the Yunkish." 

Daenerys agreed: "Yes. They could. I will receive this man. A Queen should not go back on her word." 

She watched three riders coming. One was carrying a grey-white banner, he was a boy whose features were more of Summer Islands than of Westeros. Other two were of Westeros. Daenerys recognized the archer, he was older of the two. She wanted to look at them more, but as they quickly paced towards the pavilion, she went back to the dais and sat down. Ser Jorah Mormont went to meet them, as he was already standing outside. Same as every day since she came before Yunkai, with setting sun, a light evening breeze would come. It brought voices to her, she could not understand all, but still she heard most of it. Jorah greeted the older man.

"Beron Stark... so it truly is you. How long has it been?" 

"Nine and ten years, Mormont. Last I saw you at Trident. You weren't wearing dragon epaulets then." 

"You weren't sellsword then." Jorah replied dryly. 

"Indeed, our lives have taken interesting paths. Only I have taken my path on my own free will." 

Daenerys knew what this man meant by those words and she did not like it. Jorah had to flee from Westeros for selling poachers he caught to a slaver from Tyrosh. That was a crime punishable by death and Jorah would have been executed by Warden of the North, Ned Stark, had he not escaped with his wife, Lynesse of House Hightower. Being from rich southern house, Bear Island was no home for Lynesse. Jorah tried to provide her with same luxuries she had in Oldtown, but that emptied his coffers quickly and being nearly bankrupt and desperate he sold poachers he caught on his land to a slaver from Tyrosh. When word of that reached Winterfell and Warden of the North, there was only one punishment for Jorah, one that was to be delivered by the greatsword of House Stark, by lord Eddard himself. Jorah did not wait for his overlord to come to Bear Island. He took his Hightower wife and both have fled to Lys. He lived from selling his sword and tried to please Lynesse's demands of luxurious living, but he failed. She traded him for a rich Lysene merchant while he had to flee from Lys as well. His debts wee so that Jorah was near of becoming a slave himself. Since then, before placing himself in service of her late brother Viserys, Jorah roamed between Free Cities. Daenerys never asked him much of his past, but she knew that he fought for the winning side in the Usurper's War or Robert's Rebellion as those who won were calling the war which brought down the Targaryen dynasty. 

"You are in presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons" Missandei recited in her even tone as two men entered the pavilion tent. They both wore grey overcoats with embroidered beast on the left chest. Sigil of House Stark. Barristan Selmy introduced them:

"Your Grace, allow me to present Beron Stark of Pentos, commander of the Company of the Wolf and..."

"Jon Snow of Winterfell." replied the older man, one called Beron Stark.

"Snow? You're Ned Stark's bastard then... after Titan's Bastard we have one more..." Jorah said looking at the younger man.

"Yes, he is a bastard, Mormont. He was born so. What is your excuse?" older man looked at Jorah with gaze that glowed with disdain.

Jorah's hand went on the hilt of his sword, but she made a hand gesture that stopped him. "Please, my lords, be seated." Daeneyrs said next.

She kept a slight smile on her face, though all she learned of House Stark, wolves of the North, whose hearts are as cold as their eyes, swarmed in her mind. Most of it she heard from Viserys. Usurper' dogs he called the Starks and the Lannisters. All those great lords united in their treason to bring down Targaryen dynasty after three centuries of glorious rule. She knew Viserys was a fool and weak, but she found no reason not to trust him. Albeit boy, he lived in the days of Usurper's War. She looked at her guests. Older man, one named Beron, was nearing his fortieth nameday, Barristan told her so, yet he seemed younger, but not softer. His face was so stern that she was certain it would crack if he made an attempt to smile. Her gaze shifted to younger man, he was of her age, that she could tell. His hair was dark and cut short, while his eyes were grey, his face framed with trimmed beard, though tanned by sun, was comely. There was a scar on his head, half-covered by hair. _Was he wounded..._ , she wondered before turning her gaze away, yet it was too late as his eyes met hers. They weren't cold, Daenerys could only see curiosity in them.

"My lord..." she said to older man "...I have summoned you for it was my wish to meet the man so skilled with the bow."

Beron raised an eyebrow: "Summoned? I thought I was invited." 

"A queen can summon her subjects, my lord." she answered.

"A queen can, yes. But I am man of Pentos and Pentos has no queen." he countered "So, this was an invitation after all."

She nodded: "All right. I have...invited you not only to praise your skill of archery, but also to offer you and your company a lasting contract." 

"A lasting contract? I must say in all my years as leader of free company, I've never heard of such."

"I am offering you one now..." Daenerys said "...to last from Yunkai to King's Landing and Seven Kingdoms." "Seven Kingdoms?" Beron wondered.

"Yes, my lord. I am the rightful queen of Westeros. And I intend to reclaim what is mine." she said with voice of certainty and determination.

"I see..." Stark of Pentos said "...that will prove to be a bit difficult with an army of only eight thousand, even if they're Unsullied." 

"When Her Grace lands in Westeros, many houses will rally to her cause." Barristan Selmy told him.

"And many more will rally to fight against her." Beron countered "Have you not heard the latest words from Westeros? Lannisters and Tyrells are in alliance, they've broken Stannis Baratheon at the walls of King's Landing. Their combined host numbers tenfold many men than you have now. Thousands of heavy cavalry. How do you propose to defeat them?"

"I have three dragons." Daenerys said. "So I've heard. Also I've heard they are now no bigger than a hound. It will take years for them to grow large enough to burn armies as Balerion once did." Beron replied.

She lifted an eyebrow: "You are right. For that, I am forging alliances now. That is why I have offered you a lasting contract.  
Which one day, when I take the Seven Kingdoms, will bring you lands and castles.  
You're Stark, right? Should you fight for me, I will make you Warden of the North."

Beron shook his head: "As I've said, I am man of Pentos." She nodded, then turned to younger man: "Your lieutenant is of Winterfell, right?"

"He is not lieutenant. He is captain." "Captain?" she was surprised "You're very young to be a captain." "Not younger than some queens." Beron said which made her to smirk. "Well, lord...Snow... should you fight for me, even Winterfell could be yours." 

Dark-haired man in Stark tunic looked at her: "That cannot be." This was first time he spoke and she liked his voice. "And why not?"

"North is a kingdom of its own. My king is Robb of House Stark, the King in the North. I can't turn on my brother." 

"Your brother, declaring himself to be a king, is in open rebellion." she said with coldness "Joffrey Baratheon is a usurper, same as his father was and his uncle Stannis is usurper also. I am the rightful queen of Seven Kingdoms."

"With respect, Your Grace, I cannot betray my brother. He is my king."

"Your loyalty to your family is admirable, yet it does not change the fact how this Robb Stark is nothing more than a rebel king."

"It has nothing to do with family, Your Grace. As a Northerner, my allegiance is with the King in the North." young captain, named Jon Snow, answered. 

"Ser Jorah Mormont is of the North and he fights for true queen."

"No offence to you or to Ser Jorah, but he is no longer of the North. He fled from his lands, disgraced."

She looked at Jorah first, he was giving young man a killing look. Then her eyes met his again, violet and grey were locked in a gaze that lasted. She kept looking at his eyes, same as he did at hers, as their wills are battling.

"I never dismiss those who speak with candor, captain, yet I will suffer no more of ill words about Ser Jorah. Or anyone else of my court. I cannot be clearer than this." Young sellsword nodded once. She could tell his kinsman was pleased with him. That man was once friend of Rhaegar. She wanted to know more of him, her big brother who was already dead when she came to this world. Daenerys wished she had known him. Now she had a chance to know more of him, to hear it from Ser Barristan and from this Pentoshi sellsword with Northern name. 

"Very well, my lords. It seems I cannot count on you when it comes to Seven Kingdoms. It is your loss, be certain of it... " she said dryly "...yet, I shall not cross the Narrow Sea before I am done with Slaver's Bay. I have already broken the masters in Astapor, now I will do the same with Yunkai. And then Meereen. Can I count on the Company of the Wolf, on your swords and spears, lord Beron? There will be plenty gold for the two of you and your men. You may be certain of that."

Beron exchanged looks with his young kinsman, before answering: "So, the contract will last until you have taken all of slaver cities?" "That is right." Daenerys told him.

"You will be in need of a cavalry, even more now with Second Sons fighting for Yunkai. Your eunuch soldiers and my mounted lancers in full armor, I trust Titan's Bastard will think twice before meeting us in the field." 

"Then you accept my offer, lord Beron?" she asked, content marked her voice. "Queen Daenerys, Company of the Wolf shall fight for you here and in Meereen. Afterwards, we shall leave for a place of our choosing."

"Good. It is agreed then. Unless young captain Snow has something to add?" she looked at young Northerner again. His eyes narrowed at her words, yet she did not know what to make of his gaze now. 

"I have not. Lord Beron is the commander of our company and one who has the last word." Jon Snow told her with even tone.

She said nothing as her eyes turned back to Beron: "Tomorrow morning I expect you to attend my war council. We shall discus how to take Yunkai without shedding too much blood." 

"Whose blood is that?" Beron asked "One of the enemy or our own?" 

"Both, lord Beron." 


	4. GOLDEN WOLF

_Yunkai, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**GOLDEN WOLF**

_The Others take your honor! What did any Targaryen ever know of honor?  
Go down into your crypt and ask Lyanna about the dragon's honor!_

"And? What say you of her?" he asked, between two bites of dog sausage. They have returned to their camp and he invited Jon to sup with him.

"Of whom?" Jon asked frowning at Ghiscari delicacy. He struggled to bring himself to eat meat of a dog, much to Beron's amusement.

"Of that toothless crone which sold us these for three Yunkish coppers... you know of whom I speak." 

"Queen Daenerys?" "Yes. Of her." 

"She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." Jon said, a glow came and went in his eyes.

"Oh... I see silver-hair and violet eyes left an impression on you... captain Snow..." Beron mocked him "...but, you're right. She is beautiful.  
As her mother was."

"Did you know her... her mother?" Jon asked.

"I did. A good and gentle woman wed to a cruel and mad man. Queen Rhaella deserved better than Aerys. Her life was one of misfortune, Jon. Five children she gave birth to were either stillborn or not lived to have their first nameday. And Mad King instead of consoling her,  
threw accusations of all those children being fruit of her adultery. Which could not be further from the truth." 

"Why did he accuse her falsely?" Jon wondered.

"For madness was already dwelling in his mind. Madness crawls into one, Jon, it does not charge.  
It can nest in man's head for years before it takes over him wholly."

"And... Daenerys... do you reckon she is as him? Slavers say that she is mad, that she has burned people in Astapor."

"Would you speak favorably of her if you were a slaver?"

Jon shook his head. "So, we can dismiss all they say of her. I can't tell does Aerys live beneath those lovely Rhaella's features.  
I have seen her only once. I can say that she has all the traits of young queen. And she is very young." 

"She was born the same year I was, cousin." "Mhm... and you have a scar on your head to remind you how you tend to act with not much wisdom, but with too much rashness and arrogance." 

Young man scowled, but Beron grinned at him still. "That old knight, one who came to invite you to her tent, said that you were friend with her brother, Rhaegar, one that kidnap..."

He gave Jon a long, cold stare which made him not to finish what he was to say: "Yes, I was Rhaegar's friend. Among many things he liked, was archery and I was the best archer in King's Landing."

"You were best archer in Westeros. Father told me how you've won that dragonbone bow at tourney at Harrenhal."  
A laugh escaped Beron, which did not happen oft:  
"Ser Gilwood Hunter... you should have seen his face when he lost a wager to a nine and ten Pentoshi gold cloak. That family has arrows on their shield and their keep is called Longbow Hall. So certain of himself he was that he said before all others which took part in archery contest, he will give his dragonbone longbow to one who will best him. And I have bested him.  
I swear, he would have strangled me with a bowstring when I took that bow from him..." He sighed loudly: "Harrenhal..." 

_Harrenhal, Westeros, year 279 After Conquest_

"The victor is Prince Rhaegar!" herald shouted and the crowd cheered.  
A brief halt in jousting contest ensued, for it required time to prepare the field and clear the splinters of lances.  
Beron was seated behind his cousins, Brandon, Ned and Lyanna, right next to royal dais from which King Aerys the Second watched the tournament.  
He saw Rhaegar returning to his horse, animal snorted impatiently, he patted its neck, mounted and trotted back to where he rode in.  
"Ser Arthur Dayne." herald called.  
Knight of Kingsguard was welcomed with loud clapping of hands. Beron knew that Dayne will not allow to be unseated by anyone, including heir to the throne.  
And he was right, for contestants charged at each other three times and remained in the saddle, lances glancing off their shields. Next they dismounted and swords were drawn. Beron saw Dayne's sword, Dawn, many times and still its blade, pale as milkglass, left him in wonder every time. _A sword is as good as is the hand wielding it_ was the saying and in this case one could not tell who is more formidable, sword or the knight armed with it. Rhaegar was armed with longsword whose blade was of dark steel and hilt was in shape of dragons with rubies being their eyes. Dayne was a man of broader shoulders than crown prince, but Targaryen was taller and he used that to his advantage, aiming to tire Ser Arthur. Crowd was delighted to see this duel, one man in black armor and other with white cloak. Song of swords echoed on the tourney ground, blade was meeting blade or it was clanging against plate armor. Dayne saw through Rhaegar's intent and went against him with strength, giving blow after blow against prince's breastplate and helm. As Kingsguard swung his greatsword, Rhaegar leaned backwards and avoided this blow, then he straightened up in a heartbeat and hit Dawn's hilt with such force it flew out from Arthur's hand. Next, blade of black steel rested on the neck of knight from Starfall. Sword of the Morning yielded. Crowd cheered their prince for it, rare were days when Ser Arthur Dayne would yield before anyone.

Last two remained to joust, Prince of Dragonstone and Ser Barristan Selmy. Again lances unhorsed no man and it was up to swords to decide. Rhaegar went into this fight without helm, much to Beron's surprise. Selmy was one of the finest swordsmen Westeros had and he fought to win. It took only few clashes of swords for him to know that Selmy is more rested than prince is. Only three times more have two blades met and then only sound people on the stands could hear was sword of Kingsguard falling upon black armor adorned with rubies. Rhaegar fell down on his back, making many on the stands to let out loud sounds, some of awe, some of fear for heir of Iron Throne. Still, dragon prince was not defeated. Beron could not tell was Selmy's guard down or had Rhaegar pretended well, yet as knight came over him, he swiftly rose up and hit Barristan's hip hard with his longsword. It was Selmy who now ended on the ground, he tried to get back on his feet but prince's boot was on the wrist of his swordhand and tip of dark steel longsword rested on the eye slit of his helm. "Yield?" Knight made a groan instead of saying _yes_ and Rhaegar sheathed his sword. Ser Barristan slowly got up from the ground, when he took of his helm she shouted: "Prince Rhaegar!" Most of people present were now standing and shouts: "Prince Rhaegar!" echoed time and time again.

Beron's eyes went to the king's dais and when he saw Aerys' face sudden chill went down his spine. King watched his firstborn son with gaze that was all but one of father approving and relishing in son's triumph. It was a cold stare of narrowed eyes. King stared at his heir with eyes of envy and fear and suspicion. Rhaegar bowed deeply nonetheless, before he went to his horse. When he was in the saddle, his hand was in the air, marking his victory. A page of House Whent, whose lord Walter hosted this greatest tourney the Realm has seen in many years, came and bowed, then he handed a crown of blue roses to the prince. The Crown of Love and Beauty. Only after coming to Seven Kingdoms, did Beron learn that by Westerosi tradition holds, one who emerges as victor on a tourney can choose any woman present and name her the queen of love and beauty, crowning her with a wreath of flowers and dedicating his victory to her. It was customary for that woman to be one he loves or intends to court.  
Prince of Dragonstone trotted towards the the part of stands where king's dais and those of great lords and ladies were. He rode past women of House Whent and House Dayne to come to where his father and wife were seated. Princess Elia was about to stand for her husband, but Beron saw what she did not, how Rhagear's eyes weren't upon her. His horse trotted on.  
And stopped before the Starks. Prince held out crown to Lyanna and stands went silent. Beron looked at him with widened eyes, he saw Brandon and Eddard giving him gazes of anger, but it was as no one and nothing existed for Rhaegar Targaryen save Lyanna Stark.  
Her Pentoshi cousin was seated right behind her and he how Lya shook her head slightly, prince put made her feel great unease but still he only nodded and placed the crown into her lap.  
She was motionless for a while, her fingers went over the flowers few times, then she took it in her hands and placed the wreath on her head.  
Beron saw Rhaegar smiling as he uttered: "My Queen of Love and Beauty."

"For Seven's sake, Lya." he said looking at his cousin "Please tell me you do not ponder of answering this call."

"I have not made my mind yet, Beron. And I know that you will hold your tongue of it."

"You ask of me to betray the trust your brothers have in me and your lord father as well." 

She frowned: "And my trust in you? Does that mean nothing to a Golden Wolf?" "Don't call me that." 

"Why shouldn't I? You are a Stark and a gold cloak. A Golden Wolf." "Mocking me will not help you much. You can't go, Lyanna."

They were in her tent. Lyanna invited him to come see her after they had supper in Brandon's tent. He was surprised to see her not getting ready for her night's rest, but wearing a man's shirt and woolen breeches. Her raven hair was in simple braid. Beron gave another look to a small parchment, sealed with black and red wax in a shape of dragon. A message unsigned, inviting his cousin to the great hall of Whent's castle, three hours after midnight.

"Don't do this, Lyanna. I beg you."

"Why shouldn't I? It is your friend, the Prince of Dragonstone, that invites me. How can I refuse? He will be our king one day."

"But he is not our king now, Lya. And he is not summoning you as prince summons a lady. He, a husband and a father, invites a girl betrothed to meet him in the night hours. It is not right."

"You will remain silent, Beron. Remember who was fondest of you when you stayed in Winterfell. Not Brandon, not Ned, it was me. And I am greatly fond of you still. Do not lose that."

"And I am greatly fond of you, Lya. As you were my sister. Seven hells, you understand me better than Wenela and Eyra ever could. We both have blood of the wolf, cousin."

"Good. Then you will let this blood of the wolf meet the blood of the dragon. I want to hear what he has to tell me. More than anything why he did what he did today."

He looked at the wreath of blue roses, resting on Lyanna's bed. She smiled at it: "The Crown of Love and Beauty. Gods, it is a silly name."

"Silly or not, it has won you little favor among the lords and ladies present. And tenfold less for him. He should not have done it. It is disrespectful to you and to his wife."

"Am i to blame, Beron? That prince Rhaegar Targaryen chose me over his wife?" Lyanna asked. She was close to be woman grown and of even stronger will than he remembered.

"Of course you are not, Lya... I just..."

"We shall speak no more of it then, Beron. Fear not, dear cousin, I will take a dagger to this... audience with His future Grace."

When he saw that scroll in Lyanna's tent, he recognized Rhaegar's handwriting right away. "What is he thinking of doing?" Beron wondered as he went back to the part of Harrenhal where his lodgings were. That question came back to him over and over as he lied on the makeshift bed. Then he decided to ask Rhaegar that question himself.  
Harrenhal was immense, some would even call it monstrous, castle with five huge towers aiming toward skies, the greatest fortress of this continent and yet it was nearly destroyed by Targaryen dragons two hundred and eighty years ago. Second hour after midnight has passed its first half when Beron came at the main doors of the Great Hall. Entrance was not locked as it should be by night and that did not surprise him. He pushed the heavy wooden door and entered down the stone corridor.  
There, sitting in the chair of lord of Harrenhal Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.  
His silver-gold hair was falling in waves and eyes of dark indigo eyes glowed as moonlight came in through large high windows of the hall.  
Prince wore a black leather jerkin with the Targaryen emblem of a three headed dragon embossed in gold upon it.  
He stood as he he heard paces and his smile turned into a frown when he saw Beron walking to him.  
"A lord Stark is coming, yet I was expecting a lady of your House." he said.

"I know. That is why I am here." Beron answered. "Have you come to tell me she will not be coming?" 

"No one speaks for Lyanna Stark save Lyanna Stark. Well, her lord father does, but he is not here." 

"So, she will be coming?" "I am certain of it, my prince." "And why are you here?" 

"To ask you why a married man is arranging a meeting with a maiden promised to another man in the darkest hour of the night?" 

"Do you ask this for yourself or for Brandon Stark and those other two brothers that are here?" Beron shook his head. 

"They do not know of this?" Beron nodded. "Good. I hope it will remain this way."

"That mostly depends on you, my prince. What are your intentions with my cousin Lyanna?" 

"I wish to know her better. That is all." Rhaegar replied, smiling. 

"And for that you have invited her to meet you on third hour after midnight, alone? It could ruin her good name and yours as well, humiliate your wife, not to mention Lyanna's betrothed." 

"Yes. I gather my kinsman Robert would take us meeting so as an affront."

"No, he took your crowning as Queen of Love and Beauty as an affront. This, should he learn of it, would be as you challenged him to a duel." 

"I hope it will not come to that." "What you're doing is not wise, Rhaegar." "Woman's beauty makes us unwise, Beron." 

"Woman's beauty? You've seen Lyanna... what... twice thus far?" "I saw her crying the night before, when I played my harp. I want to know her." 

Beron sighed: "Yes, she cried. But, let not those tears fool you. She is not called She-wolf for naught." 

"Allow me to judge her myself then, my friend. The way you protect your cousin is praiseworthy and I admire you for that, I truly do, but you know me well enough. I would never dishonor a lady."

"I know that, my prince. And knowing that makes me to wonder even more why you are doing all this..."

""Singers sing, as do I, of maidens who could steal your heart with a single glance. I fear your cousin has stolen mine."

Beron frowned, he was three years younger than Prince of Dragonstone, but now he felt as three and ten years older, as thirty years older:  
"Those are songs and tales. Not life."

"Life wrote those songs and tales, Beron. Those who have truly lived it. Leave me now, my friend, for my Queen of Love and Beauty will soon come." 

He saw Lyanna next evening, when lord Whent held the closing feast of the tourney.  
Tables were breaking under weight of food he laid out before his guests, pork and mutton and chicken, fruits and sweets.  
Lya walked down the central aisle of the hall and the men and women watched as she entered with her brothers. Beron knew how much she mislikes the gown she had to wear this evening and with it Brandon insisted that she must wear the wreath of blue roses, her crown, or Prince of Dragonstone might find that as an insult. Some whispered still of their fair prince giving undeserved attention to a wild girl from the North. There was Robert Baratheon, loud as ever and as feast was nearing to its end, decently drunk. When Brandon sent Benjen away as youngest of his cousins has enjoyed more wine than someone of his age should, lord of Storm's End sat next to Lyanna. She was polite towards him and they seemed as happily betrothed couple. Beron, serving his third year with the gold cloaks, learned how to see that what others could not and soon he noticed Lya's eyes seeking Rhaegar, same as his were seeking her. Beron sipped his ale, his gaze seemed to be absent, but he saw how prince's eyes were on Robert's hand holding Lyanna's, it was a dark gaze of utter mislike. Later he saw Rhaegar and Lyanna trading words of courtesy, with Brandon and Robert present, and yet it was only him who saw the glow in their eyes. Not long after, she asked to be excused and left the Great Hall, bowing to the King who did not move from his large chair during the whole feast and to the prince. He was disrobing her with his gaze. _Or mayhaps he was not_ , came to Beron's mind, _mayhaps I am now seeing what my thoughts tell me I see_.

He remained sitting for three quarters of an hour, then he went to see her. She was in her tent, wearing loose night dress. "Oh, it's you..."

"Yes, it's only me. Apologies for not being someone else..." "Be quiet..." she said and hugged him placing a kiss on his cheek: "I love you as a brother, Beron. Do you know that?" 

"Of course I do, my sister from across the sea."

"Then I can tell you that I am both happy and miserable. I am to be wed for a man who... I will never love him. And my heart aches for a man who will never be mine." 

He nearly whispered: "Rhaegar? Gods, Lya, tell me you aren't in love with him." "I am... I think I am... I think he is..." "You make little sense, cousin." 

"We kissed last night, all right..." she said with slight anger "We kissed many times and I want to kiss him many more." 

"You better remove that wanting from your mind, Lyanna. You will soon be wed." "To a whoremonger who already has a bastard in the Vale." 

"Men change when they marry. He'll keep you safe, give you children..." "He will. And then he'll leave me to bed other women. I don't want my life to be so." 

Beron sighed, he knew Lyanna was right. Robert Baratheon was not one of those men that change their ways.  
If he were a woman, Rhaegar Targaryen would seem to him same as he seemed to Lya. A fair prince from tales and songs.  
He spoke with Lyanna for nearly a hour more, telling her that as Lady of Storm's End she will be visiting King's Landing more oft than she believes so they will see each other soon enough. And that he will come to visit her at the seat of House Baratheon whenever he can.  
Notion of her coming to capital bring glow in her eyes and Beron knew reason for that glow. They parted ways smiling and laughing.  
It was last time he saw her alive.

_Yunkai, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

"When this contract with Targaryen queen is done, I will leave for Westeros. I am long overdue." Jon said to him next morning. 

"So we're having this talk again, are we? When word of your father being imprisoned came to Pentos, I wrote a letter and had it sent to Winterfell. You saw the reply. It came moons later, when poor Ned was already dead. Written by his lady wife. She was informing me that only place in Westeros you should go is Castle Black as it was intended, as you wished. Catelyn Stark does not want you near her or near her oldest son, Ned's heir." 

"She does not, but Robb surely..." Jon countered. "Tell me, in these two years that you've been with me, did he ever write to you? Had he sent for you? It is not too much of a task to have letter sent from anywhere in Westeros to Pentos. They've forgotten you, Jon, and it's no wonder. They have a war to fight. And free your sisters that are held hostage in King's Landing."

"I should go and join Robb in the field, to fight at his side." "Even if you were so fortunate to cross the Narrow Sea, gods know where your brother is. You'll have to cross hundreds of miles under sway of Lannisters or their allies. First time you open your mouth and they'll know you're of the North. They will kill you. And even if you reach your brother's army, Ned's widow will see that you are placed at the van, where your chance of remaining alive would be slim. Or none. She hates you, boy, and that will never change. You're threat to her and her children..." 

"I would never challenge..." he said which made Beron to smirk: "Well, mayhaps you would not, but lady Stark surely does not want to put that to the test. So, if you have any wit, you will not..." 

Beron did not get to finish what he was about to say, one of his lieutenants came rushing before commander's tent. Dono Pahrah was a tall Norvoshi, skilled with axe, even if he weren't trained by bearded priests of that city. 

"What is it, Dono?" "The Second Sons, commander. They went over to the silver queen." Pahrah said not without excitement. "That is certainly good to know." Beron said. 

"So much of contract being their bond." Jon told him when Pahrah left. "She offered them a better contract." he replied. "That changes things..." "It does. For Yunkai. They're doomed."

"Where?" Daenerys Targaryen asked. "There." Daario Naharis pointed at the map of the city standing on Jorah's left while she stood on his right, leaned on the table of her pavilion tent. 

"There." he said again, after he walked over to her, took her hand and placed it on the map. Beron could tell Mormont mislikes it. "It's a back gate. My men use it when they visit Yunkai bed slaves."

"Your men, but not you..." Jorah said in a way that sounded neither as question nor as claim. "I have no interest in slaves. A man cannot make love to property." 

Daenerys gave him a brief approving look which only made Jorah more displeased. As her eyes went back to the map, she briefly looked at Jon and saw him look at Daario with stone cold eyes.

"This is where we enter the city, very few guards... they know me. They'll let me inside." "We're not going to sneak an army through a back gate." Ser Barristan countered.

"I kill the guards. I take your two best men and take them through the back streets which I know well and open the front gates. Then comes the army. Once the walls are breached, the city will fall in hours." Daario insisted, his face, framed with long light-brown hair, was one of smug and arrogance.

"Or mayhaps you will lead Grey Worm and me to the slaughter, cutting the head off our army. The masters of Yunkai will pay your fee and you won't have to split it three ways for you have already slaughtered your partners." Jorah said to him.

"You have a very suspicious mind..." Naharis replied him "...in my experience only dishonest people think this way."  
To Beron this debate was amusing, yet his features were those of utter seriousness. 

Mormont turned to Grey Worm. He was a younger man, in late twenties, he had no hair on his face and the one on his head was cut short. He seemed always to be serious, nearly solemn. The way he stood spoke of him being ever alert.

"You command the Unsulllied. What do you think?" Jorah asked him.  
As Grey Worm did not spoke the Common Tongue well, Daenerys said:  
"Iā jentys sir iksā. Pāsagon zirȳla iksā?" ( _You are a leader now. Do you trust him?_ )

"Pāsagon zirȳla gaoman." ( _I trust him._ ) Grey Worm answered. "You leave tonight." Daenerys said.

"Iksi eptan daor?" ( _We are not asked?_ ) came from dark-haired young captain in High Valyrian.  
That made silver-haired queen to lift her eyebrow as she looked at him: "Hen rhinka iksā. Kostā ȳdragon." ( _Of course you are. You may speak_. )

"Sȳz kȳvanon issa. Yn naenie sȳz kȳvana qringaomagon." he told her "For men were not good enough to carry them out."

She looked at Jon with gaze that approved his use of High Valyrian, he spoke with Northern accent, all else was purest form of this language. 

"Are you good enough to carry this plan out with Ser Jorah and Daario Naharis?" she asked him next. "That we shall know when we open the gates of Yunkai. Or not." Jon replied.

Daario smirked as he walked out of queen's pavilion, while Barristan Selmy went to Mormont: "Ser Jorah, you could use one more sword." 

"You're the Queensguard, Ser Barristan. Your place is by the Queen." Old knight was to speak more, but Jorah was quicker: "If we're truly her loyal servants, we do whatever needs to be done. No matter the cost, no matter our pride." 

Daenerys listened to him, pleased to hear these words, but Selmy's eyes told Beron enough. "Years in exile did wonders for your eloquence, Mormont." he said. 

"You will remain by my side as well, lord Stark." young queen said in stern voice. "Your Grace, I should..." 

"That young captain, your kinsman, will be enough." 


	5. BARRISTAN

_Yunkai, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**BARRISTAN**

_A hall to die in, and men to bury me... I am a knight. I shall die a knight.  
_

"We've been waiting a long time." his young queen said to him impatiently while he took a sip of wine. 

He looked at her with a slight smile which only made her ask: "Haven't we?" 

After he shrugged, she said after sighing: "I don't know. You tell me, how long does it take to sack a city." 

"I can't tell, Your Grace. In truth, I have never sacked a city in my life."

Daenerys turned to Beron who was seated on the other end of the pavilion: "Then I should ask you."

"Same as Ser Barristan here, I have never sacked a city either." 

"Starks have sacked King's Landing. You were in that army." she told him, her voice marked with certainty.

"Who told you that Starks took part in sack of King's Landing?" Beron asked. "My brother." Daenerys replied dryly.

"Prince Viserys was not even eight years old when that happened. What he told you was what he thought it was true." Stark man said, just as dryly.

"And if I were to ask you of those days, you would tell me the real truth, lord Beron? Or what you think it was true..." her words were cold.

"Well, you are fortunate in that regard. Ser Barristan and me have both lived in those days, fought on different sides and our accounts of sack of King's Landing will be the same." 

She turned to him and he made a nod. "One day and that will be soon, I will ask of you to tell me of those days. And I want you to tell me the truth, no matter how it may be displeasing to me."

Daenerys looked at Pentoshi Stark again: "Lord Beron, I was told you were friend of my brother Rhaegar." "I was, yes."

"Ser Barristan has told me once he was the finest man he has ever met." 

"And I will tell you the same. He would have been a good king. Mayhaps greatest Targaryen monarch in hundred years." Beron said, not without regret in his voice. 

"Still you fought against him on the Trident." were her next words.

"Not against him, against the king whose army Rhaegar commanded. Against your father, the Mad King." 

"I will not suffer such insults of my father, lord Beron." Daenerys warned.

"Your father, Queen Daenerys, was greatest insult to House Targaryen since the days of Maegor the Cruel." 

_King's Landing, Westeros, year 280 After Conquest_

The ornate solid oak gate to the Red Keep, with its giant rusted hinges was closed for the night and rider on a tired horse skidded  
to a halt in front of it. He was on the gatehouse and voices were loud and clear. Northerners, for sure.  
"Brandon, we cannot enter, wait for the morrow. Let's find an inn." one man pleaded.  
"We have travelled too far. I will not wait." another man, who seemed to be a leader of the group cut him off.  
Next he saw him unsheathing a gleaming sword with a soft ring.

"Prince Rhaegar!!!!" he bellowed and that made his horse to jolt at the noise.  
The sound echoed around the towers of the keep and the small folk who traded in the shadow of the walls turned to stare.  
"Where is my sister?? Where is Lyanna??" Northerner began to trot his horse back and forth in front of the gate, over and over.

"You stole my sister in the night as a common thief!!! I will cut your silver head from your neck if you have harmed her!!!"

A score or so of gold cloaks came rushing up the twisty Shadowblack Lane, their spears and swords ready.

"For fuck sake, Brandon!" shouted their young commander when he saw the man who still trotted his horse before the gate.

"Beron! He stole her! He stole Lyanna!" "Who did?"

"Rhaegar Targaryen!" "That cannot be..." man of the City Watch replied in disbelief. "It is. Now, cousin, you will either join me or stand aside." 

"Brandon... calm down before you... Yelling at the gate will do no good. You must seek audience with the king..." "King? Well said!"

Rider again made his horse to go closer to the entrance of the Red Keep: "Open your gates, King Aerys and let your son face Northern justice!!!" 

The night had darkened and there was no moon, only stars that hardly lit the stone turrets of the castle.  
A crowd of city folk had gathered, giving them a wide berth, some who were trading beneath the walls of royal castle and remained there  
for the night, were now awoken and swiftly collected their things and left, leaving nothing behind.  
"Dragon prince!!! Come and die!!!"  
Northerner on the horse shouted, not once but four times. It was time for Kingsguard to act.  
Gate opened with creaking sound, its hinges moaned. Barristan was now on the drawbridge, side by side with his six brothers.  
Their white armor and white cloaks contrasted the darkness of this night. They moved as one and from afar they must have seemed as one,  
yet being as near as they were to the insolent riders one could tell the golden hair of their youngest knight, Jamie Lannister from Dornish features of Prince Lewyn Martell. A deep, booming voice of the white figure in the center of their white line spoke:

"It is treason to threaten the life of the Crown Prince, Ser Brandon of House Stark."

"Your prince has stolen my sister, Ser Gerold. Will he answer for his crimes?"

That indeed made Ser Gerold to exchange a glance with Prince Lewyn who stood beside him.  
Thought that heir of Winterfell is telling the truth came to Barristan's mind.

"If she has been harmed, I will spill every drop of his dragon blood." young Stark said with menacing voice.

Ser Gerold Hightower nodded and the seven knights began to move. Barristan saw how Ser Jonothor Darry, kills the horse of one of Brandon Stark's escort and rider falling face down in the dirt, with point of Darry's sword on his neck. "Gods have mercy..." was that young man repeating while his broken nose was painting his clothes from neck to belly in crimson. Kingsguard has slain all five mounts of these men that came before the northern gate of the Red Keep. Brandon Stark was wielding his sword and managed to cut Lord Commander across his face, but Barristan hit him in the face with the hilt of his sword and oldest son of Rickard Stark was on his knees, yielding.  
With him, four more were taken prisoner, his squire Ethan Glover, Elbert Arryn, Kyle Royce and Jeffory Mallister.  
Young City Watch commander tried to plead with Ser Gerold, but Kingsguard would have nothing of it.  
Heir to the Iron Throne was publicly threatened with death.

Smallfolk of King's Landing gathered to see what new did their king put on the spikes. Six charred heads. Three sons and three fathers.  
He was sickened with it. With shrieks of Ser Kyle Royce and his father who were nephew and brother to lord Royce most known as "Bronze" Yohn. It was sickening to Ser Barristan Selmy as his brothers from Kingsguard were made to serve the gaolers.  
People of King's Landing as ever screamed with joy as companions of Brandon Stark and their fathers were burned alive, under orders of King Aerys, who smiled watching them die. Elbert Arryn was still no more than a child. And heir of the Vale, as his uncle Jon Arryn, was then twice a widower and childless.  
_How can we let this madness happen?_ burned in his mind _They were innocent, we know it and the gods know it too.  
And unlike us, they will not turn their gaze away and act as nothing happened._  
The heir to the North and his squire were still in the black cells and Lord Rickard was locked in one of the chambers of royal castle.  
Lord Rickard's face was fatigued and desperate. He should have attended wedding of his heir to one of Hoster Tully's daughters.  
_His only daughter was taken from him by the prince and now his firstborn son could be taken by the King..._ Barristan thought.  
Father and son awaited trial, but the trials in King Aerys court had been unjust for quite some time now.  
The charred heads of sons and fathers, all of them equally innocent were silent, but still loud witnesses of madness that was seated on the Iron Throne.

Throne room of the Red Keep was deathly silent when Arthur and his brothers entered behind the King.  
Aerys the Second climbed up the dais and perched himself on the edge of the Iron Throne. He nodded to Ser Gerold, who exited the hall quickly, his armor clinking softly as he walked and returned moments later followed by two gold cloaks of the City Watch holding Ser Brandon Stark in chains. Barristan saw young Stark at Harrenhal, but this seemed to be another man, his dark hair was matted and greasy, his beard was a thick, filthy mess of hair. He looked ragged and weak, the black cells could do that to a man, no matter how young. Brandon's comely face had now dark circles beneath his eyes and sunken cheeks. He could feel nothing but pity for young Northern lord. They threw him on the floor before King as he were a sack. Aerys himself was no better sight for the eyes, tall but thin man with messy and unwashed hair and beard that grew past his waist; his fingernails were nine inches long and yellow of age. Aerys feared blades, so he did not cut his hair or trimmed his beard or nails.  
In a ragged clothes king would appear to be let out of the black cells as well. Brandon rose up and looked at the King with defiance, his chin high. A man on the throne had a thin, high voice. And menacing:  
"You have been found guilty of treason Ser Brandon. The punishment is death."

"And what is the punishment for abduction?" Brandon's voice was harsh and accusing.

Barristan awaited what will the King answer. His own son has taken this young man's sister and disappeared.  
He refused to believe it when words of it came to him, but Rhaegar was nowhere to be found for moons now.  
"You will refer to the King as Your Grace, Ser." said Prince Lewyn from beside the throne.

"He throws me in a cell while his son rapes my sister and expects of me to call him Grace?" Brandon spat with a mocking chuckle.  
King looked over young Northerner with his violet eyes, surveying him slowly. "Bring in lord Rickard." he finally said.

Warden of the North was brought by two men of City Watch. He was still in his furs and armor, but he appeared ragged.  
Barristan saw right away how Rickard's beard and hair were matted and how he was not properly fed. His gaze was cold, warming only at the sight of his firstborn. _He was not treated well kept, not as a highborn captive..._ thought of anger came to Selmy.  
"Father...?" Brandon said with trembling voice but lord Rickard only shook his head.  
A wooden platform had been erected to the side of the dais and above it hung a pair of manacles.  
Rickard Stark was led up the wooden steps to them, looking around at the gathered crowd warily as his hands were clamped tightly in the cuffs.  
One of gold cloaks took a glass bottle from the floor and poured it over lord Rickard's head. He shook his head as the oil ran over his eyes and mouth, sending droplets flying into the first lines of those present in the throne room who stepped back quickly. The oil went down his grey hair and oozed into his clothing, then began to drip on the floor. He watched the gold cloaks then slide part of the platform away slowly, screeching as it was pulled across the floor.

"Lord Rickard, do you deny your son's treason?" asked the King.

"Where is my daughter, Your Grace?" He asked slowly. "What has Prince done with my daughter?"

His voice was calm and deep. Barristan knew King Aerys had no word of where Rhaegar had taken lady Lyanna, though search went from Castle Black to Sunspear.  
Aerys ordered Varys the eunuch to bring any whispers of prince's whereabouts but Rhaegar remained missing.  
"Answer your King, my lord." said Ser Gerold gravely. The new Hand, lord Merryweather, stood fearfully beside the King.  
Tywin Lannister would not have been so craven, he would have stood up to Aerys, wisely and a way to release Stark father and son would be found.

"Tell me where my daughter is and I will give you your answer." lord of Winterfell said.

There was no answer, so Rickard spoke again:  
"I demand a trial by combat. Name your champion, King Aerys, you have no lack of them."

Court turned to gaze at the Kingsguard, whispering to one another over who would be chosen.  
King Aerys stared at the Warden of the North and turned, nodding at the gold cloaks again.  
From the back of the hall a leather noose was brought. It was tied around one of the large columns that lined the walls.  
Gold cloaks put the noose around Brandon's neck. Barristan did not know what to think of this.  
"Ser Arthur." Aerys called and Dayne turned his head to his King.  
It made sense for Sword of the Morning to be King's champion. What followed made no sense to him whatsoever  
"Place your great Dawn in front of Ser Brandon. On the floor."  
Dayne looked befuddled at the King but he obeyed. Not without guilt marking his face as his eyes met with Brandon's.  
Aerys made another nod to men of City Watch present. And soon they brought a pile of wood, enough for make a bonfire and set it under lord Rickard. They lit the fire, it began to smoked and crackle.  
"I will nome name my champion, lord Rickard Stark. I name fire as my champion." said voice from the throne.

That weak fire soon met with oil and it turned to flames that were now reaching higher, towards lord Rickard's feet, soaked in oil as well.  
"Only the gods, old and new, can judge me, Aerys Targaryen." said lord of Winterfell in calm, stern voice.  
_This is how true man dies._ Barristan said to himself _Yet no man should die this way._  
Next, he looked at the King whose eyes now glowed same as fire under his victim. He was enjoying this.  
Ser Barristan Selmy, knight of Kingsguard felt disgusted watching the man Seven Kingdoms called their King.

"Brandon Stark, if you can reach the sword and free yourself, you may cut down your father. You may then return to the North."  
Aerys said cheerfully. _He will never reach it..._ flashed in Barristan's mind.  
He saw how Brandon raised his chained hand to his neck and felt how loose the leather strap was, eyeing the sword at the same time.  
His father, hanging on the wooden platform, swung left and right to escape the flames but fire was now high.  
It has already caught his feet and first sounds of pain came from him.  
"Father!!" Brandon shouted and then went for the sword. As he tried to move forward the noose tightened.  
"No! Brandon! No!" Rickard yelled at him. Rickard's clothes were on fire while his armor began to glow red.  
His firstborn tried to reach the Dawn, letting out a cry when he saw his father now burning whole as flames reached the oil on his face and head,  
burning away his skin. Aerys began to smile, his distorted features lightened by flames. As his father's head was caught on fire,  
Brandon threw himself forward and was pulled back by the noose, it seemed it will break his neck. "Father!!!" he screamed.  
He may or may not have heard his son, he was engulfed in flames and his armor turned white with heat, fire was consuming him whole.  
Brandon tried to reach the Dawn, with efforts more befitting to an animal than a man, but all was in vain. Noose grew tighter and tighter,  
taking life from this young man same as fire was killing his lord father. To Barristan's left stood Ser Jaime Lannister.  
He had a look of silent horror and others around the room either watched, eyes filled with utter disgust, but many looked away ashamed.  
Rickard died first, as chains of the platform went silent. Smell of burned flesh filled the throne room.  
Brandon soon followed, after two more attempts to reach the sword, noose strangled the last breath of life from him.  
Aerys Targaryen let out a laugh of amusement. _Madman..._ Barristan cursed in his mind _...this will not end well._

_Yunkai, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

Barristan was about to pour himself another cup of wine when sounds of commotion came from outside.  
Daenerys rose from her seat and walked to him, when Jorah and Grey Worm entered the pavilion. Mormont was breathing heavily.  
His face was covered with sweat and blood, his armor also stained with crimson. Same was with leader of the Unsullied.

"It was just as you said..." he said, looking at his queen with wide eyes "...they did not believe until it was too late.  
Their slave soldiers threw down their spears and surrendered." He smiled at her, his face marked with awe.

Barristan looked at him sternly, while Beron eyes went over two men, seeking his young cousin.   
Daenerys' face was marked with content, then trace of worry came upon it and she asked: "And... Daario Naharis?"  
This question left Mormont bewildered, shattered even and he was left with no words.

Footsteps were heard and Queen's eyes shifted from Jorah to where sound was coming.  
Tyroshi sellsword walked in from the back, a large piece of white cloth was on his shoulder. His face was covered with blood stains as well.  
With eyes fixed on Daenerys, he knelt before her and laid the Yunkish harpy banner before her feet: "City is yours, my queen."  
She looked at Daario with approving smile, not noticing the fourth man which went to take Yunkai through the back gate.

Young captain of Company of the Wolf stepped into the pavilion, grey linen surcoat he wore over his chainmail hauberk was now crimson.  
His eyes narrowed at the sight of Daario Naharis kneeling before Daenerys and when she finally noticed him, he said with coldness:  
"May I take my leave?" It was unexpected to her and she barely could make a nod, though it seemed she was about to speak.  
Jon Snow left the pavilion the very next moment and Barristan could tell it surprised his kinsman as well.

Beron went after him, yet not without bidding a good night to young queen and congratulating her for conquering Yunkai.  
Barristan stepped out as well, he wished to breathe night air, leaving Naharis, Jorah and Grey Worm to tell how yellow city was taken.

He saw Stark and Snow speaking not far away and he could hear them clearly: "What was that, Jon?"

"What was what?" "You disrespecting her the way you did." "I did not disrespect anyone." 

"You did. She expected a report from you, same as Mormont gave her."

"Report? Naharis gave her a report well enough. I have cut down that Yunkish banner, but that Tyroshi cunt somehow grabbed it first.  
And used it to impress her." younger man hissed. 

"You wanted to impress her yourself, right?" Beron said, grinning at him. 

"I need not to impress anyone. I wanted to earn my pay, that is all. We fight for her gold and silver, don't we?" young captain replied,  
before vanishing into the night. Barristan walked to Beron: "That young man is truly of wolf blood. He is rash." 

"Oft I wish he was only of wolf blood, Ser Barristan." Stark of Pentos said, absently.

Next day, when hundreds and thousands of newly freed slaves went through the main gates of Yunkai and rallied around young queen,  
carrying her on their shoulders and calling her _mother_ in Old Ghiscari, young sellsword choose not to witness it.  
He stayed in the camp. And Barristan could swear that violet eyes were seeking him among the ranks of her army.


	6. JON

_Coast of Slaver's Bay, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**JON**

_No man wants to be owned._

Two thousand Second Sons, eight thousand Unsullied, smaller bands of sellswords and the Company of the Wolf.   
All were on the long march from Yunkai to Meereen, along the coastline. With them, thousands of freed slaves from red and yellow city.  
Someone claimed that as much as eighty thousand advanced towards Meereen. If truly so, not even every fifth of that number was man at arms.  
With prolonged siege of largest slaver city, all these freedmen will soon be starving. And wishing their bellies were full, even if that meant wearing collar again. This column has stretched for many miles. In the center of it was the infantry, formidable eunuch soldiers, marching in perfect formation. One part of the Second Sons rode before them, other part was in the rear where supply train was, together with siege weapons that were taken from Yunkai. It was agreed that Company of the Wolf takes the vanguard, much to Jon's liking. Being in the center of slowly marching host or even worse, at its rear felt as he was imprisoned. Road, better than those in Westeros and yet beneath quality of those Valyrian Freehold built, passed through a rough country, of rocky hills that were nearly bare, only bushes and pines, nowhere near as tall as those in the North he was used to, grew among grey rocks and boulders. While nights were pleasantly chill, days were hot and only breeze that was coming from the sea inland, made the heat bearable.

Meereen was not so far from Yunkai, but it took some time to assemble a column so large and lead it on the march. Jon did not even saw its end, where women, children and old people were with their livestock. Nor did he care to see it. _These freedmen should have stayed behind. It is unwise to have them on the march with an army. It will only slow us down. And drain our supplies._ He shared his thoughts with Beron but he told him right away how these Astapori and Yunkish once slaves want only to go where their Myhsa is going. _Myhsa..._ Jon smirked every time he would hear that word. _Mother._ What do these people expect of Breaker of Chains, to feed them and clothe them as they were children...  
One does not take bawling babes and toothless men on a campaign of conquest.

Among reasons why he was pleased to be in vanguard, even to join scouting parties was that he did not need to see Daario Naharis.  
That man irked him greatly, even before he took the harpy banner and the credit for capturing it.  
Also it was plain that Tyroshi sellsword lusts for Daenerys Targaryen. For that reason, he betrayed and killed his captains, not that it was wrong to kill them, they were just as rotten as Naharis was or worse. To make his way into Queen's service, Daario brought her the heads of Mero,  
the Titan's Bastard and Prendahl na Ghezn. This turning of cloak worked and Second Sons were now pledged to the Mother of Dragons.  
Jon was chewing on dried mutton, good ten miles from the column's main when Zanal Saaq, one of goldenheart-bowmen in the company  
came galloping down the road. "Captain! Captain!" "Gods be good, man, are Meereenese after you?"  
Zanal shook his head: "No, captain. They left a message for the silver queen. A message of many letters."  
Upon learning what message was, Jon mounted his horse and rushed down the road.

He has found Daenerys Targaryen standing next to the road with Tyroshi sellsword.  
She wore her blue dress, this time with a cloak of same color and grey trousers, same as the day he first saw her.  
Daario was offering her flowers, but she did not seem very content, yet he insisted:   
"You have to know a land to rule it, its plants, its rivers, its roads, its people. Dusk rose tea eases fever,  
everyone in Meereen knows that, especially the slaves who have to make the tea.  
If you want them to follow you, you have to become a part of their world... strategy..."  


Her face was more approving now as she listened to his words and he produced one more flower:

"Harpy's gold. No tea from this one, beautiful but poisonous." He offered her flowers again.  
"You are a gambler, aren't you?" she asked, but he said nothing, his hand holding three flowers remained extended until she took them.  
Only then he made a slight bow with smile: "Your Grace..." and walked away. Jon watched her smiling at the gift she just received.  
Then he approached her. 

"Captain..." she got serious right away "...do you have something to report from the vanguard?"

"I do. Otherwise I would spare myself from overhearing this lesson about plants of Slaver's Bay."  
She frowned at his words, but said nothing.

It was a child. A girl of no more than ten namedays. Nailed to a milepost. She was dead for many days now, but alive when this was done to her.  
One arm was outstretched, pointing the way to Meereen, other was nailed to her belly. Jon knew this poor girl was dying for hours.  
Missandei followed behind Daenerys and Jon saw how eyes of Naathi girl were filled with tears. Jorah Mormont and Barristan Selmy stood there, silent. Daenerys' face darkened at the sight of a child killed by the masters in such vile manner.  
"There is one on every mile marker between here and Meereen." Jorah spoke at last.

"How many miles are between here and Meereen?" she asked.

"One hundred and sixty-three, Your Grace." Mormont answered, sighing.

"I will tell our men to ride ahead and bury them..." Selmy told her "...you don't need to see this."

"You will do no such thing..." Daenerys said with stern voice "...I will see each and every one of their faces.  
Remove her collar before you bury her."

One hundred and sixty-three. That number burned in Jon's mind.  
As his vanguard advanced, his hope that Great Masters were not meticulous men and that some mileposts will not carry a dead child, faded.  
While his anger was slowly boiling. Children. Boys and girls. It was early morning when he saw the first one.  
Now sun of the late afternoon was warming up the barren hills. More than fifty miles were behind him.  
Fifty dead bodies. Youngest was not more than six or seven namedays. Oldest was mayhaps three and ten. Some were clothed, some near naked, their masters delivered them so. Flies and birds already descended on the corpses and Queen's men who marched before her were chasing them away. He tried not to look at the mileposts anymore. And yet he did at every single one. He had to. Dead eyes stared at him,  
beneath dark, brown and light hair. Children of all skin tones in the Known World were used to send a message to Breaker of Chains.  
It was sixty-first milepost at which he halted his horse. He looked at the dead body nailed to it. It was a boy of nine or ten namedays,  
of dark hair and light-blue eyes that stared into nothing. His skin was pale as he was dead for days now.  
Around his neck was a rope with meat hook on each end and on each hook was one of boy's feet.  
One of his sellswords said, as he saw Jon's face: "This one tried to run. So they cut his feet off, before nailing him."

He gave the dead child a long gaze and then said, not without sighing: "Take him down." 

"Captain, silver queen said she..." that same sellsword reminded him.

"I know what she said." Jon hissed at him "Do you follow her or me? Take him down. I will bury him myself." 

He cursed the rocky ground through which road to Meereen went. Shovel was of no use here. He found a spot in the shade, beneath the small pine tree. Boy's body was wrapped up in a cloak one of his men gave him. Jon removed the collar from child's neck and placed his feet back from where they were cut off. He was in his shirt and breeches now, all else was unneeded burden for one doing work in the heat of the afternoon.   
He was nearly over with piling rocks on the dead child, when voice came from behind:

"I have ordered not to bury any of them before I see their faces." 

Jon turned around. Daenerys Targaryen stood there, with Grey Worm. Further away, on the road Jon could see Barristan Selmy, Jorah Mormont   
and Daario Naharis. Beron was with the rear today, he wished to see how good archers of this host were.

"And I have buried this boy." he answered with irked tone. 

"I wanted to see his face." she told him, displeased. 

"All of their faces are the same. Faces of innocence tortured, eyes asking what did they wrong to deserve such fate. All of their faces are the same." 

"You have disobeyed me, captain. I will not suffer that. You will either act as my other commanders..." Daenerys said, her tone ringed with warning.

"Your other commanders? This one here would follow you to seven hells for you've given him his freedom. Ser Barristan is Queensguard,  
he'd fall on his sword if you would order him to. Ser Jorah is not much different. And that... Daario... craves for you, so he acts as mere lapdog.  
Allow me not to be as your other commanders." Jon said, looking at her with narrowed eyes. Daenerys' face reddened as anger overtook her.

"Ñuha Dāria, naejot pryjagon zirȳla ilagon rual nyke." Grey Worm said, killing him with his gaze. ( _My Queen, allow me to strike him down_.)

She gestured the Unsullied that it will not be needed. "You will remove yourself from my sight and from my army, captain.   
You deserve ten lashes of whip before you leave. I care not if your whole company leaves with you." 

"As you wish, _Your Grace_..." he hissed back "...but before that, allow me to finish burying this poor child." 

Jon turn his back to her and returned to making grave for the unfortunate boy. He heard footsteps leaving, but he did not care.  
When he placed the last stone, he stood straight and said: "I know not your name. I know not what god or gods you have prayed to.  
I can only hope that they have seen your suffering, that they have seen what crime and injustice was done to you. And if there's a world after this one, I hope they will let you run free over some green meadows... in a place that is wholly unlike this one where you were killed."

As he turned to grab his chainmail hauberk which he hanged on the pine branch, Jon saw Daenerys standing there, alone.  
Her face was softer now, Jon could tell she liked his words, but gaze was still stern. 

"Why him?" she asked. He took a deep breath: "He... I... I saw my little brother in this boy."

"Is he..." was her next question and Jon could tell she hoped for a different answer. 

"He is dead. Both of my little brothers are dead. Killed in a same manner as this boy was. By a turncloak which was raised by my family."

"I am sorry for your loss." her gaze was now softer as well "You should have told me this before we..." 

"I was angered. I am angered. I have seen one and sixty murdered children and I know that I will see one hundred more..." Then he paused:  
"No, in truth I will not. You have banished me. Who will give me ten lashes? Grey Worm? Daario? I am sure he'll give his best to prove himself to you."

"No one. A queen that breaks the chains surely will not have a free man whipped. And you will remain with me. Your contract still stands." 

"No. It does not." Jon said and that make her frown "From this day on, I will fight in your army, but not for gold or silver.   
I will fight for every single one of those one hundred and sixty-three children. So that they get their justice."

Violet eyes were now looking at him approvingly: "You can be certain that I will punish the Great Masters of Meereen." 

He nodded and then his gaze went toward sky: "I wish they were fully grown so you could burn their pyramids to the ground." 

Daenerys looked up as well, placing hand on her brow to shade her eyes: "My dragons, they fly over the sea. You can tell it is them?  
They're so far away. One could easily mistake them for seagulls."

"I know it is them. I can't say how, but I know." he answered. Daenerys looked at him again and smiled.  
It was a smile that could warm the coldest heart. And his heart was never cold, nor was his blood.

"I should return to the vanguard. My men are miles ahead of us now." he said, putting his belt and scabbard on. 

She replied with seriousness: "You may leave." Then her eyes got a soft glow: "I look forward to seeing you again, Jon Snow." 

"Your Grace..." he made a slight bow before mounting his horse.


	7. BERON

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**BERON**

_I have nothing to say to them. I speak only to you._

The inland gates of Meereen.  
Two massive stone pillars, carved to resemble the harpy. And tall city walls built upon solid rock on each side of the gates.  
Walls whose battlements had a broad parapet walk and today, scores of people gathered, masters and slaves who were there to serve them food and refreshments and provide shade. _They see this as entertainment..._ he thought _...what sort of people, save those of boundless arrogance would consider arrival of thousands of enemy soldiers before the walls of their home as occasion to divert themselves._  
Unsullied marched in tight formation, sun reflecting on their spears and spiked helms. More than half of them have already taken position on dry and dusty plain before city gates and still they were coming, deploying siege weapons, large catapults that were captured in Yunkai, along the first line of these famous and infamous infantrymen. Silver queen came riding on her silver horse, behind her followed two knights, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan, Naathi translator Missandei, Tyroshi leader of the Second Sons and Queen's Dothraki riders. Sellsword cavalry took the flanks, Company of the Wolf was on the right flank, they held formation equally well as the Unsullied, each one of their lances had swallow-tailed pennon in grey-white color. They seemed as Westerosi cavalry, which cannot be said for those on the left flank.  
Second Sons made no attempt to resemble an army, they were sellswords, none of them was armed or dressed the same.  
Beron misliked Second Sons. Under Braavosi named Mero, they have become unreliable band of men at arms, so much that one who would hire them had to be as wary of them almost the same as one against whom they were hired to fight. Free Cities shunned them, due to Mero's ways, and they ended in Slaver's Bay. Titan's Bastard was dead, his head rolled before young Targaryen queen as he was betrayed by his lieutenant Daario Naharis. Who did it to win her favor and to enter her service. She accepted him.

Beron stood close to once slave girl, Missandei, when tall and heavy gates of Meereen were open.  
"Are they attacking?" young queen asked. She stood not even two yards before Beron, with Jorah and Barristan at her side.

"A single rider. The champion of Meereen. They want you to send your own champion against him." Jorah told her.

Meereenese rider galloped along the walls, toward left flank of besieging army, cheered by city's noblemen from the walls. He rode on a grey charger and even from afar Beron could tell how this man has no plate armor, he wore dark boots and breaches, leather breastplate and paludrons, while his helm was adorned with yellow silk cloth. He made his horse to halt and dismounted. Then he began to shout words in Meereense Valyrian. Beron could not understand much, Pentoshi Valyrian was a bastard child of High Valyrian same as dialects of other Free Cities, but Valyrian spoken in Meereen was not even a distant cousin of local tongue of Pentos. Missandei understood what champion of Meereen was shouting and his words made masters on the walls to laugh.

"What is he doing?" Daenerys asked, already irked by the noise this man made.  
"Well... if he means to..." Ser Barristan said, but his words remained unsaid.  
Champion of Great Masters pulled his manhood out and relieved himself, making sure that Queen sees it.  
Another salvo of laughter was heard from the walls, slavers were enjoying themselves.   
Meereenese rider continued to spat insults with Missandei translating his foul words: "He says that we are an army of men without...  
man parts. He claims you're no woman at all but a man who hides his cock in his own asshole."

"Ignore him, Your Grace..." Barristan said "...these are meaningless words."

"Not meaningless if half the city you're meaning to take is listening to them." Jorah countered and he was right.

Daenerys remained silent for a heartbeat, then said: "I have something to say to the people of Meereen. First, I will need this one to be quiet."  
She pointed her finger at the slaver's champion who never ceased his ranting.

"Do I have a champion?" she asked turning towards men around her.

"Rual nyke bisa rigle, Muña Zaldrīzoti. Kesan ivestragī ao ilagon daor." Grey Worm said  
( _Allow me this honor, Mother of Dragons. I will not disappoint you._ )

"Dovaogēdy jentys iksā. Nyke ojughagon ao daor." Daenerys declined him  
( _You are the commander of the Unsullied. I cannot risk you_.)

"Your Grace, I have won more single combats than any man alive..." Barristan began, but she ended it for him:  
"Which is why you must remain by my side." Old knight bowed and stepped back.

"I've been by your side longer than any of them, Khaleesi. Let me stand for you today as well." Mormont walked to her. 

"You're my most trusted advisor, my most valued general and my dearest friend.  
I will not gamble with your life." she said, giving him a warm gaze.

"I was the last to join your army..." Daario Naharis came forth "...I am not your general or member of your Queensguard  
or the commander of your Unsullied..." Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him,

"...and it seems he will not be your champion, Khaleesi." Jorah said, barely hiding how pleased he was.  
His eyes looking to the right, from where a rider was galloping on the black horse. 

"Isn't that your kinsman, lord Beron?" old knight asked him. "He is... What in seven hells..."  
Beron looked with widened eyes as Jon passed by them, his blade resting on the shoulder of his swordhand.  
He had no helm and his only armor was chainmail shirt. 

Young queen paced forward, looking at him with gaze that betrayed her surprise, her awe and her concern.  
It appeared she will say something to Jon, but he rode too fast. Beron knew nothing exists for him now, save that Meereenese on grey horse.  
That man yelled at his squire who served him with a lance painted in blue-gold stripes and then charged at Jon.  
"He is mad... that boy is mad charging at lance like that..." Jorah said as he watched two riders closing on each other.  
Walls echoed with masters and their wives cheering for their champion.  
Striped lance was nearing Jon who was straight in the saddle, his sword not pointed towards his foe but still on his shoulder.  
Last ten yards, Meereense forced his horse into faster gallop. Daenerys briefly turned to Beron and he could see fear in them.  
And she could see the same in his.  
Not more than six feet was between Jon and the tip of enemy's lance when he suddenly leaned to the right as he was about to fall off the horse.  
Lance passed over him, grazing his left shoulder. His right hand went forward, making sure that blade of his sword finds forelegs of champion's horse. Animal shrieked of pain when his front right leg was cut off and the left one was slashed.  
Meereenese fighter went down with his horse in the cloud of dust. His adorned helm flew aside with clangor.

"This cousin of yours rides as a Dothraki!" Barristan exclaimed.  
"No. He rides as his mother..." Beron said to himself, it was only a whisper, yet Selmy still managed to hear him and his face frowned.  
Daenerys looked at Beron again and he saw her content smile. Jon turned his horse around, accompanied by slavers' angry shouts from  
the walls, and came over their champion who was still coughing out the dust he swallowed. His horse lied near, letting out painful cries.

"Se vīlībagon nyke hae vala!" this man demanded from Jon, as he stood up defiantly. ( _Fight me as a man!_ )

"Eman vīlībagon ao hae vala." Jon answered without dismounting as Meereenese champion wanted to. ( _I have fought you as a man_.) 

"Jiōragon hen aōha anne! Laehurlion ñuha egros!" hope of the slavers yelled at Jon. ( _Get off your horse. And face my sword._ )

"Daor. Iksā iā dyni skore ivīlībagon dyni. Dyni skore gaomas gūrogon egros daor.  
Dyni skore gūrogon morghon hen iā olvie sȳrkta dyni." Jon said in cold voice.  
( _No. You are a beast which fights for beasts. A beast which does not deserve a sword. Beast which deserves death from a much nobler beast.)_

Then he whistled and from the ranks of Company of the Wolf, large animal appeared, of white fur and red eyes and charged towards Meereenese champion. Beron grinned, while young queen standing next to him watched it all with wide eyes: "What is that??"  
"Direwolf, Your Grace. Great wolf of Westeros." "What is he going..." she asked but man's screams answered her.

Large white wolf killed the champion of Meereen in matter of moments, tearing his throat apart.  
Jon dismounted and delivered mercy blow to the dying horse. Then he tore off the yellow cloth from dead man's helm.  
All that time he was cheered by his men and the Second Sons, while Unsullied hit the ground with end of their spears.  
Meereenese nobility on the walls cursed him and their archers tried to hit him, but in vain as he was well out of their reach.

He got back in the saddle and slowly cantered towards Daenerys. Ghost followed by his side.  
When he was in front of her, Jon halted his horse and leaned to her, giving her the yellow silk.

"Champion's banner for the Mother of Dragons. You may speak to the people now, Your Grace."

Beron saw how she looked at him. Eyes filled with admiration and gratitude. There was something else in that gaze as well.

"A gruesome death you have given to that man, captain." Ser Barristan said.

"For a good reason, Ser. For one hundred and sixty-three good reasons." he replied, before riding away.

Selmy gave Jon a long look, watching him return to the right flank where Company of the Wolf was. Beron noticed that and was about to speak to Ser Barristan, but young queen began with her speech to the Meereeneese:

"Daenerys Jelmāzmo iksan. Kostilus jevi āeksia yno bē pirtra jemot vestretis, iā daoruni jemot vestretis. Daoriot jemas.  
Doriar udra pōnto syt eman. Mērī jemī ivestran. Ēlī Astaprot istan. Astaprot dohaertrossa sīr yno inkot iōrzi, dāeri.  
Hembar Yunkaihot istan. Yunkaihī dohaertrossa sīr yno inkot iōrzi, dāeri.  
Sesīr Mirinot mastan. Jevys qrinuntys ikson daor. Jevys qrinuntys jemo paktot issa. Jevys qrinuntys jevor riñar laodissis ossēnīs.  
Jevys qrinuntys jemo syt mērī belma se boteri se udrāzmī ēzi. Udrāzmī jemot maghon daor.  
Iderennon maghan. Se jevo qrinuntoti pōjor gūrotriri maghan. Naejot!  
 _(I am Daenerys Stormborn. Your masters may have told you lies about me, or they may have told you nothing. It does not matter._  
 _I have nothing to say to them. I speak only to you. First, I went to Astapor. Those who were slaves in Astapor now stand behind me, free._  
 _Next I went to Yunkai. Those who were slaves in Yunkai now stand behind me, free. Now I have come to Meereen._ _I am not your enemy._  
 _Your enemy is beside you. Your enemy steals and murders your children. Your enemy has nothing for you but chains and suffering_  
 _and commands. I do not bring you commands. I bring you a choice. And I bring your enemies what they deserve. Forward!)_

Following her command, the Unsullied moved their catapults in front of the first line of Queen's infantry, causing stir on the parapet walk above the inland gates. Beron saw some of the masters leaving the scene, afraid of what may follow. To his surprise, catapults were not loaded with any sort of projectile, but with wooden barrels. Daenerys gave her second order, with voice that sounded with reslove: "Nābēmātās!" ( _Loose!_ ) Catapults released their load and it went flying over the gates.  
Barrels smashed into ancient walls from which bushes of sun scorched grass grew.  
A strange rain fell on masters and on slaves of Meereen. Rain of collars once worn by slaves of Astapor and Yunkai.

"That was... stupid, Jon. Plain stupid." he told his young cousin as they sat before tent of Company of the Wolf commander.  
Five hours have passed since noon of this first day of siege of Meereen. Great Masters offered no battle, but hid behind their thick and high walls. Clever strategy, Beron knew that. The more prolonged this siege would be, the more burden will feeding of thousands of freedmen which followed her army be for Daenerys Targaryen. Those inside, people that owned tens of thousands of slaves, were surely well provisioned. Question was were these provisions enough to feed each of three slaves that came on each of free Meereenese. There he saw a chance for young queen. Rebellion that will begin from inside the city walls. This afternoon, though, he spoke with Jon on his actions of this morning.

"It was not. I knew I will defeat him. I know I am that good." Jon said leaning in the wooden chair.  
He was barefoot, wearing his trousers and same once white shirt he still had not washed.

"And you wanted her to see how good you are." he grinned at him. "It has nothing to do..." 

"Surely it does. You're a young man, she is a young woman of unworldly beauty. Of course you want to show off before her.  
I'd do the same if I were you. I have done the same when I was of your age... ah... the highborn ladies of King's Landing..."

"I have not slain that man for amusement of Daenerys Targaryen." Jon said with slight anger in his voice "I did it..."

"You did it for all those murdered children... Yes. Mayhaps that was the reason, but you did not charge at that man only for them.  
I know you for more than two years now, Jon. Essos has changed that boy Eddard has sent me in many ways during that time. Save one.  
You remained the same in one thing. You tend not to think much before you act. For you have not matured enough yet."

"Matured? If maturing means to be as you are now, I am not sure that I want to _mature_ so. " Jon said mockingly.

"Keep charging on lances in your undershirt and you will not have to worry of ever growing old as I am now... boy." he hissed back. 

They were stabbing each other with scornful gaze and then Jon burst in laughter first, followed by Beron.  
As he was laughing, Jon leaned in his chair more than he should and soon he fell on his back, chair under him.  
Beron laughed now even more, spilling the ale he was lazily drinking during his talk with Jon: "Do you need a hand, captain Snow?"

Someone made a slight cough and that made him to turn his head. Missandei of Naath stood there with utmost seriousness.  
Norvoshi Dono Pahrah was at her side, trying not to laugh aloud and his face was in stark contrast with faces of two Unsullied  
which came as escort of young girl freed from slavery in Astapor. She pretended not to see Jon lying on his back and with courteous smile said:  
"My lord, Her Grace, Queen Daenerys invites you to share supper with her this evening in her royal pavilion."

"Her Grace honors me with this invitation. When does she expect..." Beron began to talk, but soon went silent seeing Missandei's face.

"It is not you Her Grace invites, my lord Beron. My Queen has invited lord Jon to sup with her." 

Jon struggled to get up, much to Dono's amusement, while Missandei kept ignoring it. "She invited me?!" he wondered.

"Yes, my lord, Queen has invited you. What answer I am to bring Her Grace?" Naathi girl asked in very formal tone.

"You may inform Her Grace that I accept the invitation..." Jon answered as he finally managed to get up. 

Missandei nodded: "I shall do so." She turned to walk away, then paused and looked at Jon with smile: 

"My lord... shoes and clean clothes will be required this evening." 

Dono turned his head away and covered mouth with his hand, while Beron laughed aloud again. 


	8. THE DRAGON AND THE WOLF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, I had to adjust the chronology in this story to TV show timeline where all characters are two years older (so that situations where Daenerys is married as 14 year old are avoided).  
> But, that asked of all past events to shift back as well so events of Robert's Rebellion in TV show timeline are taking place two years before same events in the books. 
> 
> Regarding Rhaegar's letter about his child with Lyanna, even with annulment of his marriage to Elia, it would be unwise of him to make his children with her illegitimate (that would cause war with Dorne, surely) so this way he did not make any shifts in hereditary line. When Aegon by Elia was killed, it is not impossible that Lyanna would name her own son Aegon as well.  
> (yes, one has to work with the mess D&D have made and try to put some sense in it).

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**THE DRAGON AND THE WOLF**

_And now it begins..._

"Ain't you a pretty sight!" Beron exclaimed when he saw Jon coming out of his tent.  
He grinned at his kinsman, but Beron's words were true. Black linen boots, black breeches, grey tunic over which he donned black doublet.  
"And you have shaved..." Stark of Pentos smiled "...as it is proper when one is about to sup with the queen."

Jon shrugged: "I did not expect this invitation."

"No but she was obliged to show her gratitude to you for defending her honor before whole of Meereen."  
"As I've told you already, killing the champion of Great Masters was not to honor her."

"And yet it was. You were her champion." Jon shrugged again: "I don't know what to think of this supper."

Beron smiled: "I'll give you an advice. Don't think. Go and act your best. Eat her food, drink her wine, enjoy yourself. Entertain her.  
You've been in company of women before."

"Tavern wenches and camp followers."  
"Rarely as that was, you know how to speak with girls." Beron told him next.

He replied: "You know the reason why I have shunned women that lay with men after one or two cups of wine."

"I know. You don't want to father bastards. Sometimes I believe that if I hadn't brought that Lyseni whore you'd still be a maid this very day.

"I wanted to join Night's Watch without breaking..." that made Beron to laugh aloud and Jon's face get a mark of anger right away.

"Jon... part of Night's Watch oath goes _I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children..."_

"I know how it goes. I've learned by heart while I was still at Winterfell." "I doubt not that you have..." Beron said and then asked:  
"Who is the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch? One that issues orders to your uncle Benjen? Whom does my dear cousin obey?"

"Jeor Mormont is the Lord Commander of Night's Watch." he answered.

"Indeed he is. And Ser Jorah is his son. So, the very Lord Commander cannot say how he has upheld that oath to the fullest.  
He has fathered children. I hoped these ideas of you taking the black have left your young mind."

"I don't see myself at the Wall no more. But when this here is over, I will go to Westeros to find Robb..."

Beron cut him: "First you will go to this supper, Jon. Then, after this city is taken we shall speak of you leaving for Westeros."

His Pentoshi cousin smiled watching Jon mounting his horse and leaving for the central part of the camp of Daenerys' host,  
where her very own pavilion tent was. Soon, the sun disappear behind the waves of Slaver's Bay and as every evening that meant  
arrival of cooler air which would end the reign of daily heat. Beron has retired to his tent, when one of his Myrish serjeants  
came with hastened pace: "My lord commander!" "Come inside!" he answered loudly.

"My lord, rider came from Astapor. A ship call in from Pentos with letter from your lady mother a fortnight ago.  
It took that rider some time to reach us here, as he was told we were still in Yunkai." serjeant spoke in one breath. 

"As they say, better late than never." Beron said. Serjeant left and he began to read. Not much after, he wished it was never.

_Red Mountains, Westeros, year 281 After Conquest_

He was never this south. Nor he was ever this late.   
Red Mountains of Dorne emerged before him, bathed in the light of setting sun.  
Behind it lied the southern Princedom, where blood of Rhoynar mated with that of Andals and First Men and gave the queerest of all Westerosi cultures. Yet he was not going to Dorne. He met them at Trident. Ten thousand of them came under command of Prince Lewyn Martell,  
member of Kingsguard, to join the ranks of those still loyal to the Mad King. Forty thousand came at the river, men of Dorne, Reach,  
Crownlands to face just as many men of Stormlands, of North, of Vale and Riverlands. It were Valemen that charged at Dornish and break them as they were threatening the left flank of rebel army, but chronicles have forgotten how Northern bowmen, not even a thousand of them that were deployed as he advised his cousin Ned, slowed down the Martell spearmen, weakening their lines so that Ser Lyn Corbray could lead a charge which claimed even life of Prince Lewyn himself. It seemed that fortune in that battle will not favor either side, till two men have met in single combat. Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen crossed his sword with the warhammer of Lord of Storm's End Robert Baratheon.

Warhammer prevailed. When they saw Rhaegar being struck down, loyalist host fell apart and fled the battlefield.  
He only saw from afar how Robert Baratheon, though wounded, acts triumphantly. He killed the man who stole his betrothed.  
He could not feel anything but sadness when word of Rhaegar dying spread across the battlefield.  
It saddened him even more as some Stark men, those that were near the two battling leaders of armies, men who were collecting red rubies from Rhaegar's armor, claimed he died with woman's name on his lips and how that name was not Elia. Beron knew what name that was. Lyanna. His dear cousin that was gone for nearly a year now and nowhere to be found. The very next day after Mad King murdered Rickard and Brandon Stark, Beron left the capital and fled north, to Riverlands. He reunited with Eddard at Riverrun and remained at his side since.  
He was present when Eddard argued with Robert over Tywin Lannister's men killing Elia Martell and her two children.  
Much to Ned's disgust, Robert had no issue with that crime. New Warden of the North rode south, to lift the Siege of Storm's End  
and there host of Reachmen under lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners to Ned Stark.

Then somehow Ned got a word where Lyanna could be.  
Was he told in King's Landing by Mad King's Master of Whisperers or did he found out in other way, Beron never knew.  
What he knew is that Ned went south that day and how he should have rode out with him. He did not woke up in time.  
And lord Eddard Stark would not wait for any man. Not even his own kinfolk. He was eager to find his missing sister.  
Beron was a troubled man ever since death of Rickard and Brandon. He was of gold cloaks and gold cloaks took part in that crime.  
For that he was ashamed of himself, to held rank and be part of City Watch. He was troubled with Rhaegar's death and tales  
of him being kidnapper and raper. Beron knew it was a lie. Most of all he was troubled how Elia and her children have died.  
Innocent victims of madness, folly and cruelty of king and high lords. He got drunk the night before and overslept.  
Still he went southwards, hoping he would caught up with Ned and his six men. Beron wondered why his cousin only took that few.  
Howland Reed of Greywater Watch, lord Willam Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull and Ser Mark Ryswell Went with him.

It was not much of a tower to look at. Few more years of negligence and it will be a ruin.  
Beron saw horses tied to trees beneath the rock upon which tower was built. He knew Ned's mount from afar.  
As he approached, he could not see anyone but Howland Reed. Crannogman had a slash across his chest and was leaned on a tree.  
Right next to him, eight dead bodies were lined up. All other men that went south with his cousin and three men in white cloaks.  
He saw dead faces of Ser Arthur Dayne, of Ser Oswell Whent and of Lord Commander of Kingsguard Ser Gerold Hightower.

"What happened?" he asked Howland, still in disbelief of seeing knights of Kingsguard here.

"We fought. With them." Reed pointed at three dead white cloaks "They fight not as men, but as demons."

"Where is Eddard?" Beron asked looking at Howland with widened eyes. "He is all right. He is in the tower."

Beron lifted his eyes up: "What is in that tower?" then looked at crannogman who was wiping tears from his face:  
"A truly sad affair, lord Beron." He ran up the stairs carved in stone and soon he was at the door of cracked wood.

What he saw in there wound him worse than Dornish spear would if it had found his heart at Trident.  
He saw his cousin Lyanna lying in the bed of blood, his face was pale and he knew right away she was no longer living.  
"Lya! Gods, no! No!" she rushed to the bed and knelt beside it. Her eyes were closed at she seemed to be at peace.  
Tears went down his cheeks and Beron knew he was sobbing: "Lyanna... my sweet sister from across the sea."  
Only then he felt someone's hand on his shoulder: "She is gone, cousin. We have lost her. Lost her forever."  
Voice equally shaking as his spoke and he saw Ned standing over him. His eyes were red from crying.  
"She did not have to die, Ned... not her." "She died giving life..." Ned said, himself choking in tears.

"What?" Beron asked and then Ned pointed at two Dornish midwives in far corner of the room. One was holding a babe. 

"Lya gave birth this morning.... And bled out..." Eddard told him, letting out another sob "It is his son." 

"Seven be merciful!" Beron cried out "For you have shown all your cruelty already." 

He walked to the midwife holding a babe boy and he saw grey eyes and velvet black hair.  
There seemed to be more Stark in this newborn child than house of the three-headed dragon.

"Ned, what will you...?" Beron asked, but his cousin gestured him to leave the room. There was another, smaller chamber and they went inside. 

"She was alive when I found her, Beron. And she begged me to promise her that I will keep her babe safe.  
And I have made that promise. So must you. To me." 

"Ned.. why would anyone..." "You saw how Robert was pleased when he saw dead bodies of Rhaegar's children. He would kill this one himself."

"He can't be that much of a monster, Ned, he is your friend, for gods sake! He would not dare shedding Stark blood, that boy is our blood." 

"He would. Trust me he would. If not him, those Lannister shits that are now around him surely... Read this."

Ned reached in his sleeve and handed him two parchments. Beron unrolled the first one and began to read:  
"I, Rhaegar Targaryen, first of my name, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Seven Kingdoms declare in the name of my father King Aerys,  
second of his name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, the child of Lady Lyanna of House Stark and myself, as legitimate and fruit of marriage.  
He or she will bear the right to carry the name Targaryen and the sigil of our House. If a son is born he will enter into the lineage of kings  
and should my firstborn son, Prince Aegon, fail to produce an heir of his own my second son shall succeed myself and have absolute right  
as the King of the Seven Kingdoms."

"This is indeed Rhaegar's handwriting and his seal... but fruit of marriage... How, he was already married..." Beron looked at Ned.

"That was written before he fell on the Trident. He did not know if Lyana was with boy or a girl then. And his son with Elia was still alive.  
Lya could not speak much before she.... but he did marry her. After he annulled his marriage with Elia."

"Lyanna... she managed to tell you this?" Beron asked "She did not have to. My sister would never agree to be any man's other wife."

He was about to say something, but Ned pointed at other scroll: "Read that one."

"On our honor as knights and sworn brothers of Kingsguard, we give our sworn testimony that son of Rhaegar of House Targaryen,  
Prince of Dragonstone and of Lyanna of House Stark, which was born on this day of year two hundred and eighty-one After Conquest  
in a tower at northern end of Prince's Pass of Red Mountains of Dorne, is named Aegon of House Targaryen.  
Him being the last living child of Crown Prince, Aegon Targaryen has the right to inherit the title of King of Seven Kingdoms.  
With these signatures we confirm these words. Lord Commander of Kingsguard Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent."

"You see how noble Lyanna was. She named her babe after his slain half-brother. They knew what took place in King's Landing. Those midwives have told me that word came to them, of Trident and of the butchery of Elia and her children."

Beron let out a deep sigh.... "I know now what you mean... That babe is the heir of House Targaryen. Lasting threat to Robert's reign."

"Which has just began..." Eddard said "...and Lannisters already have their clutches in that reign. Tywin will have no mercy, even if Robert would."

"What will you do with the boy, Ned?" "I will do as I have promised Lya on her dying hour. I shall keep him safe. In Winterfell."

"I could take the babe with me to Pentos. I am not returning to City Watch. I respect Robert, but not as a King.  
I plan to go home. I swear he will be safe there. And far from Westeros."

"No, Beron. This promise was mine and I have to keep it. What you must do is to take these parchments and hide them, in Pentos."

"We could burn them..." he suggested. Ned shook his head: "Future is not yet written, cousin. But, now you will make an oath to me."

Beron nodded while images of Lyanna's smile flashed before his eyes, and sound of her voice and laughter echoed in his mind.

_Goodbye forever, my sister from across the sea. May you reunite with the man you loved the most in the halls of the afterlife._

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

Jon dismounted before the royal pavilion which was in the very middle of Unsullied camp whose tents went around pavilion in circles,  
each more wider than previous one. In that first circle were tents of Grey Worm, Ser Jorah Mormont, Ser Barristan Selmy and Dothraki who were the bloodriders of their Khaleesi. One of the Unsullied took his horse and lead it where Queen's own mount and those of her knights were tied. Two other eunuch soldiers were standing guard at the entrance of the pavilion. One of them moved the canvas aside so that Jon can pass.  
As he entered, his eyes fell upon the young woman of silver hair. She was sitting on a divan, padded with Ghiscari patterns.  
She wore floor-length white dress that left her shoulders bare and was tied to a necklace of black metal just above her bosom.  
Ornate belt of black leather was around her waist. Her hair was loose and it fell down her back in long tresses.  
She was a vision of beauty and Jon could not hide that those were his exact thoughts the moment he saw her.  
Only then did he noticed Ser Barristan Selmy standing guard at her side.  
Daenerys Targaryen gave him a courteous smile: "My lord. I am pleased that you have accepted my invitation."

"You have honored me with your invitation, Your Grace."

She said smiling: "A Queen should honor her champion, captain." 

He made a slight nod and remained standing, as he did not offer him to sit. "Will you join me?" she asked next.

"At what, Your Grace?" Jon asked. "Before she eats, mother must feed her children. Come. And you, Ser Barristan."

Daenerys rose from the divan and gestured with hand where he was supposed to go. He tried, but it was hard not to look at her breasts moving beneath the white fabric or at the pale skin of her bare back. Jon managed for Daenerys not to notice, but her Queensgard did and gave him a chiding look. They walked to the back entrance of royal pavilion which was joined with a smaller tent. When he stepped in, Jon's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He was as rooted to the spot. Three dragons were in that tent, all three on a wooden pole, it reminded him of those in manse gardens of Pentos, only twice as small with parrots chained to them. Dragons were not chained and they stirred as they saw Daenerys.

She looked at them with proud smile and approached the largest of the three, one whose scales were black and red and so were his wings. Young queen made two more paces and soon she was scratching that black dragon under the chin. Beast that was size of a pony, let out a chirping sound. It was plain how dragon enjoys her touch. "Jon Snow, meet Drogon." she said looking at him now. Jon remained silent, but as Daenerys spoke, all three dragons were now looking at him, their eyes as glued to Jon. "This is Viserion..." she pointed at the dragon of cream and gold colored scales who has just spread and folded back his red-orange wings. "...and this is Rhaegal."

Jon's gaze met the bronze eyes of that third dragon, one of green and bronze scales. He moved left and right on his pole and then jade-green wings were spread and in two flaps he came at Jon who crouched to avoid being struck down. He looked around to see where the dragon was and he found this large winged reptile before himself. Rhaegal and Jon were now face to face, merely one feet away, their gazes locked again, and dragon was nearing to Jon still. Then, not knowing how and why, Jon saw his own hand reaching for dragon's jaw.  
He could not understand why he is not trembling, from where this mad idea came, but only a heartbeat later he was scratching the green dragon same as Daenerys did with the black one. Rhaegal let out the same sound and Jon could hear himself saying: "He purrs... dragon purrs."

He looked at Daenerys and saw her looking at him. She was as surprised as he was, her eyes were wide, her mouth open. Jon scratched Rhaegal a few times more, until dragon had enough of it, he gave Jon one long gaze more and then turned and made a short flight back to the wooden pole. Dragon's wing nearly hit Jon across the face and that made him chuckle. He stood up and his eyes went on Daenerys again.  
Young queen was now studying him from head to toe. Same as her Queensguard who looked at Jon with stern, questioning gaze.  
"They should have their meal now, Ser Barristan." "Yes, Your Grace." old knight confirmed and stepped out only to return with a large clay pot filled with raw meat. He emptied it on the tent floor and dragons began to let out louder, more belligerent sounds.

"It is better for us to return to my pavilion, captain..." she told Jon "...my children love to fight over food."

He nodded, then asked: "Do you not fear they could burn this tent down? And yours with it?" 

"Dragons are far more clever than that, Jon Snow." "It must be so." he agreed and then looked at Rhaegal one more time.   
Green dragon looked back at him and Jon felt odd when his eyes met Rhaegal's bronze pools .

When they returned to Queen's pavilion, their meal was already served. Rye bread, persimmon soup, goat cheese, honey sausage, roast onions, figs, dates, melons and pomegranates and a bowl of honeyed locusts. For drink there were two bottles of chilled wine and sweet water.  
"Ser Barristan, you don't need to stand watch as captain and I sup together. You may retire, Ser."  
"As Your Grace commands." old knight bowed and left the pavilion, his eyes still on Jon.

"The way he looks at me..." Jon said when Selmy left "...he either mislikes me or he likes me more than a man should."

She gave a hint of smile: "Ser Barristan is commander of my Queensguard. It is his duty to be wary of everyone." 

"I agree..." he said as he began to ate his soup. They supped in silence for some time and it agreed with him.  
He was between two bites of goat cheese, when silver-haired young woman sitting next to him asked:  
"So, tell me how did Jon Snow of Winterfell end in Slaver's Bay?"

"Bastard of Winterfell would be the right name." "I do not think so." she said.

"It's the way of the world, Your Grace. Baseborn children as I am oft do not grow with their fathers. I was fortunate, I reckon.  
I lived with my lord father since I was born, with all my brothers and sisters. I've been taught same things they have..."

"Mhm..." she said between two slices of melon "...your High Valyrian is near perfect. Save this accent of yours." She chuckled.

Jon liked her seeing her smile and laugh. She seemed as a whole new person to him, gone was the stern queen he first met.

"Yes..." he said, smiling now as well when memory came to him "...Robb hated me for it. I could speak Valyrian sentences with ease when I was barely of seven namedays. He struggled with it, making maester Luwin angry. When I came to Pentos, knowledge of the tongue just returned to me. I've been speaking it for a good two years now. Still, I can't understand the tongue of smallfolk here. It's all _kosh_ and _kush_ to me." 

She smiled at him again and he could not take his eyes from her. Then he shrugged and finished the honey sausage. 

"Are you not going to try the honeyed locusts?" she asked next. Jon frowned at the bowl which made her smile even more:

"The brave captain of Company of the Wolf, Jon Snow, vanquished the champion of Meereen, owns a wolf which is size of a smaller horse  
and has just petted a dragon. Yet, dead locusts scare him."

"Nothing scares me." he replied and grabbed a handful from the bowl.  
"This is actually quite delicious...though I must wash it down with wine." he said upon finishing first locust.  
She chuckled again.

"I'm glad you like it. One should try the wonders of the world... for that you came to Essos, right?" Daenerys said next.

"I did not. I wanted to join the Night's Watch." She raised her eyebrows: "The men who guard the Wall... Why?"

"I am not a trueborn child. When coming of age, bastards cannot hope for much. And, when my father left for King's Landing  
to be Hand of King Robert, there was no place for me in Winterfell anymore. Lady Stark..."

"Your father's wife?" "Aye... she wanted me gone from her sight. She... hated me ever since she first saw me.  
A living reminder that her husband bedded another woman. She could not do much about it when father was there, but..."

"I see... but why the Wall? You could go anywhere to be away from her and from Winterfell..."  
Jon could see her gaze filled with sympathy when she spoke those words. 

"Night's Watch is an ancient sworn brotherhood of men. I saw it as a chance to achieve something in my life.  
In their ranks any man, trueborn or bastard, nobleman or commoner, can rise high if proven worthy."

"I know that Ser Jorah's father is their... Lord Commander... and I know that it is a service till you die."

Jon nodded: "It is so. My father misliked me going to the Wall, I was barely six and ten so he decided to ship me to Pentos,  
for me to have a taste of life before taking black."

Daenerys leaned her head: "And you have been tasting it, indeed. Living as a sellsword, becoming their captain so young.  
I am glad than you did not take the black, Jon Snow."

He lifted his eyebrow at her words and she said calmly: "I would not have my champion today with you on the Wall."

Jon made a nod and then reached for dates: "May I ask... how a Targaryen princess became Khaleesi of the Dothraki?"

"My brother, Viserys, arranged a marriage between their greatest khal and me, hoping it will secure him an army with which he could invade Westeros. He sold me, in truth." She sighed: "He was kind to me as a boy, yet as he was becoming a man, exile and humiliation took that kindness away and only cruelty and lack of wit remained. With time I grew to love my husband, then he was taken from me.  
It was then that my children came to this world."

"Viserion..." Jon said "...you have named that dragon of white-gold color after him? Even if..."

"He was my brother still." she replied with seriousness "Drogon is named after my late husband, khal Drogo  
and Rhaegal after my oldest brother, Rhaegar. One who stole your father's sister..."

"He did not, should you ask my cousin Beron..." Jon said pensively before saying: "You keep calling these dragons your children?  
I don't recall any Targaryen who rode dragons of ever doing so."

"You're familiar with history of my house?" she wondered.

"Every highborn child in Westeros reads of your ancestors. They have made seven kingdoms into Seven Kingdoms."

"Strange. I would expect your heroes to be some Starks of old..." Daenerys said, smile not leaving her face.

"As a child, I loved Daeron the Young Dragon. And Aemon the Dragonknight." 

"The young conquering king and the noble commander of Kingsguard. No surprise there, Jon Snow." 

Her face got more serious after saying this and sigh escaped her: "My dragons are the only children I will ever have.  
I hatched them on a funeral pyre of my husband. I can't have children of my own."

Jon frowned: "You're too young to be saying that..."

"A witch told me so. She killed my husband, pretending to be saving him. She told me how my womb will quicken when sun sets in the east. That means never." Jon saw how shadow of great sadness covers the face of this young beauty.

"Forgive me if I am being too bold, Your Grace, I can't say that I have much experience with witches, but most of them are liars.  
You should not take her words as your destiny. You have many childbearing years ahead of you." 

She smiled again, but wished to speak of it no more: "I have never seen Rhaegal to act so with any man.  
Ser Jorah has been with them since they were hatched and he does not let him this near as he has let you, a stranger."

"Trust me, I was in wonder myself... I still am." "Were you afraid?" she asked.

"That is the strangest part of it... I was not. And I should have been. I can't tell what I felt, but it was not fear. I know how this sounds to you..."

"It sounds to me that my champion is a man braver than he himself knows... What do you intend after I take Meereen? And I will take it.  
Sooner than masters cowering behind those walls expect. I already know how."

Jon admired this young woman. Not only for her beauty, he tried not to let his gaze wander over her curves beneath this white dress  
during whole supper. He admired her strong will and resolve. She was a true queen. 

"Your Grace, my brother wars against Lannisters in Westeros and I should be at his side. It would be a lie to say that it does not trouble me being on the wrong side of the world in time of greatest ordeals for my family. Lannisters have killed my father, the Ironborn have killed my little brothers, my two sisters are held prisoner by Joffrey and Cersei. Oft I feel as I am betraying them by being in Essos."

"Then, you intend to leave for Seven Kingdoms soon?" she asked. 

"When Meereen is taken, not long after I will take the first ship that sails to Westeros."

"You will take Company of the Wolf to fight for your brother's cause?" 

"They're Beron's men. And I am not certain of him wanting to return to Westeros." Jon answered.

"That means you will go alone..." He shrugged: "I've come to Essos alone."

"I will cross the Narrow Sea, Jon Snow, to reclaim the throne of my forefathers. I will fight the usurper Joffrey and all which stand by his side.  
You could remain in my service and return to Westeros with me."

"No offence, Your Grace, but how soon will that be? What will happen when you take Meereen?"

"I will give Meereen the same rule as I have given Astapor. A council so that people govern themselves..."

"Once you and your armies are gone from Slaver's Bay, the masters will return."

"Those I have freed will never allow that." she replied.

"Some might. Some people are so used of being in chains, they do not know for anything else. To such, freedom is frightening."

She misliked his words: "Then those should learn from dragons. Zaldrīzes buzdari iksis daor."

"Zaldrīzes raqiros iksis..." Jon said and that made her lift her eyebrow "I know this saying. Dragon is not a slave. Dragon is a friend.  
Dragons have never served men. Dragons have chosen to be with men. It is same with direwolves. Ghost is not my pet nor I own him.  
He's been with me since he was a pup and our bond is strong, still he is a wild beast with the will of his own."

Daenerys gave him an approving gaze: "I have greatly enjoyed your company, Jon Snow."

"And I have greatly enjoyed yours, Your Grace." he replied with slight bowing of his head.

They rose from the table and his eyes were on her body again though he tried to hide it.  
She led him towards the entrance of her pavilion, then she suddenly stopped: "Oh! I almost forgot."  
Daenerys turned around and went toward richly ornate wooden chest that was placed next to her divan.  
Jon could see he reached for something inside it and soon she was walking back to him. I was a piece of cloth.  
As she approached him, he saw that it was a sash, made of black and crimson coated fabric. He looked at her in wonder.

"You were my champion today and it is proper for a champion to have a token from his lady, is it not?"

It was a black waist sash with two red dragons embroidered on it, facing each other.  
It made him ask: "Are they about to fight each other? Or dance?"

"Dragons dance when they fight and when they... well, raise your hands, Jon Snow, so I can tie it around you."

As she placed the sash around his waist, it was the nearest Daenerys came to him, fragrance of her hair filled his nostrils. And he loved it.

"There..." she said contently "It looks good on you. You do look good in black, captain." 

"It was always my color..." he replied. His eyes met hers, grey and violet gazed at each other.  
Then his lips met hers as he lowered his hands on her bare shoulders. She tasted so sweet, he wished not to part this kiss.  
When he did, she gave him a long silent look. His hands were still on her bare skin, so tender and soft she felt.  
"Gods... you're beautiful... slap me now if you will, I care not. I care not if you order me whipped for this kiss."

"I will have you whipped, Jon Snow... if you do not kiss me again." she said, her violet eyes glowing.

Hearing her words, he kissed her with even more passion now. His hands trailed from Daenerys' shoulders down her back and soon he realized she was bare under her dress. An urge came to him to tore her clothes off, to relish in her nakedness, he could feel his manhood stiffening,  
he knew she must have felt it too as he was holding her tight now. When their lips parted again, Daenerys was breathing deeply,  
her breast heaving, her nipples hardened beneath white silk, betraying her.

"You must go now..." she said, her voice trembling.

"When will I see you again?" he asked.

"Soon... very soon." she said placing a kiss on his cheek.

Jon embraced her tightly next and he felt such warmth washing over him, warmth he never felt before in his life.


	9. MHYSA

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**MHYSA**

_I will answer injustice with justice_

Meereen has fallen.  
Largest city of Slaver's Bay was taken not by breaching the main gate, but by the sewers.  
Grey Worm took two scores of the Unsullied in the underground of Meereen bringing arms to the slaves within the walls.  
They went in the sewers an hour after midnight. Before noon of the following day it was all over.  
Large black banner with red three-headed dragon was placed on the statue of harpy on the apex of Great Pyramid.  
She walked through the gardens beneath it with slave children, now freed, running around her.  
Slave collars were thrown before her feet as she passed by to mark her triumph.  
Same as in Yunkai, tens of men and women, freed from the yoke of slavery, chanted: "Mhysa! Mhysa!"  
They have crowded the gardens wishing to see the silver queen, one who was the Breaker of Chains.  
She smiled at all of them, on her way to garden terrace, that was shaded by blue and yellow canvas and vine.  
Jorah and Barristan walked beside her, her knights and closest advisers.  
Today she donned her blue dress and grey breeches with boots of same color. Her hair was loose, falling to the small of her back.

On the terrace, Unsullied stood guard with their commander. Grey Worm's face was stern and proud.  
Darrio Naharis was there as well, pacing around with a grin. She only grazed him with her gaze, he was not the one she wished to see.  
Commander of Company of the Wolf was standing next to Grey Worm, he seemed so solemn to her in black and grey attire.  
At Beron's side stood his cousin, stood a man she could not bear to see as he was now, his face was marked with great hurt and sadness.  
Daenerys nearly went to him, more than anything she wished to embrace him and comfort him. Jon Snow had a place in her heart now.  
She grew to like this young Northerner, she liked the way he talked and the way he acted when with her, she liked him greatly.  
Grave news came from Westeros. News of betrayal and vile crime that was done against his brother and his family.  
Guest right, a sacred law of hospitality, was broken by some lord in Riverlands and Robb Stark was killed at the wedding.  
With him, his pregnant wife, his mother, his bannermen and many of his soldiers. That much she has learned from Ser Jorah.

"House Stark is all but gone, Khaleesi, if this news are true. All sons of Ned Stark are dead now. Daughters are captives of the Lannisters."

"Are their lives in peril as well?" she asked. "No, Your Grace, they will use them to take sway over North. By marriage. To ensure heirs."

"Heirs?" "Yes, Khaleesi. Marrying Stark girls to members of House Lannister would give old Tywin proper heirs of Winterfell."

She had this talk with Ser Jorah that night when her Unsullied went to take Meereen. This city was now hers.

And its Great Masters were at her mercy.  
She saw them, defeated and with bowed heads, in their tokars of bright colors, wearing those thin nets made of silver or gold over their heads.  
Some had bruised faces, their once property has beaten them as they were forced to the gardens, all of them were scared. Rightfully so.  
On one side, shields and spears of the Unsullied, on the other swords of Second Sons. And above them stood her, one they called silver whore.  
They were not so arrogant now. Not so proud. They have lost to a young girl. They were all at her mercy.

"Remind me, Ser Jorah, how many children did the Great Masters nail to the mileposts?" she asked with voice of disgust.

"One hundred and sixty-three, Khaleesi." 

"Yes. It was it..." 

Daenerys then looked at Grey Worm and he nodded to his men which held the masters at spear point. "Push!" one said in Low Valyrian.   
Unsullied were leading the masters away when Ser Barristan approached her: "Your Grace, may I have a word?"

They stepped aside and old knight said: "This city is yours. All these people are your subjects now.  
Sometimes it is better to answer injustice with mercy."

She looked at him and replied with voice of determination: "I will answer injustice with justice."

Barristan bowed his head and went back. His Queen left the terrace escorted by Grey Worm.

"She will do to one hundred and sixty-three masters as they did to children." he said to Beron in low voice.

"That troubles you?" Beron asked.

"I don't see it as justice, but more as reprisal. As vengeance. Mercy would be wiser choice." Queensguard replied.

"Mercy... honor... aye... that is what we are taught to strive for..." Jon said, his face darkened "...my father was man of honor and of mercy.  
He is dead now for he believed in honor and mercy in others. My brother was man of honor and of mercy. He was killed under the roof  
of a man who offered him bread and salt. For he believed in that man's honor. He believed that mercy will be given to his pregnant wife.  
So, of what use were my father's and Robb's honor and mercy when they have faced men which had none?  
If she were to give mercy to slavers now, she would be despised by both sides of Meereen, by once slaves for robbing them of justice  
for their children. And once masters would not see her sparing of their lives as mercy, but as weakness."

"Then you agree with this, captain?" Barristan asked.

"No. I do not agree. I would not nail one hundred and sixty-three masters. I would behead three hundred and twenty-six of them.  
One child is worth as two of these leeches. For generations they have lived off the misery of others." 

"Not all masters are guilty for what was done to those poor children." old knight countered.

"Aye, some of them are not guilty. But all of those children were innocent, Ser." Jon said and walked away from terrace.

"There is a lot of burning rage in that boy, Beron." Barristan said. 

"He has just learned of ruin of House Stark. Red Wedding it is called, my mother wrote me. Forgive him for not being cheerful."

"I know what happened. What Walder Frey did will curse him in the eyes of gods, old and new, for all eternity." Selmy told him.

"Curse on him and all his House..." Beron spat "... I hope someone kills that rotting son of a whore in his sleep." 

"He will receive his reward. One day." Barristan said. "Only if it is delivered upon him and his kin." Beron said. 

"You should keep an eye on your young kinsman. He could leave for Westeros now, to deliver his justice. Or vengeance."

"Sometimes vengeance is justice, Ser Barristan. Or justice is vengeance. And it is hard to tell them apart."

"Still, keep that young captain checked. I see rashness in him that was not akin to his lord father." 

"True. Ned was not called the Silent Wolf for a jape. He was of calmer temper. Calmer than mine is." 

"Your cousin takes not after him then. He does not look like lord Eddard nor is he behaving like him." 

"He still acts as a Stark." Beron replied. "And what Stark would that be, lord Beron?" Barristan asked. 

It took hours for some masters to die. Their agony echoed all the way up to the apex of Great Pyramid.   
Eight hundred feet tall, thirty-three levels, a number sacred to Ghiscari gods. She was told how this pyramid was built in honor of the Great Pyramid of Ghis. Outer walls were thirty feet thick, well enough to block both the heat and the outside noise from entering. These thick walls kept the pyramid pleasantly cool. Still when she stepped on the apex terrace, she could hear sounds of dying men from below.  
Then another thought came to her. Thousand slaves died building this pyramid. Each level was paid with thirty lives. And gods only know how many broken arms and legs, how many crooked backs. That thought chased away question of was it right to do what she did.  
_Mercy... I have shown it once. It cost me life of my unborn son and of Drogo._

Daenerys wished not to ponder on fate of the masters anymore.  
"What is done, is done." she said to herself as she walked around Queen's apartments. She liked her new accommodation. Ever since she left Qarth she was either sleeping on a ship or in a tent. This was a welcome change. Greenery and fragrant water pools were all around her chamber. She could walk to terrace garden straight from the room where she slept. From this height, she could see whole of Meereen and beyond,  
along the banks Skahazadhan river which watered orchards and fields on its way to the sea. Terrace had a pool, much to her pleasure.  
Yet she could not think of anything else but to sleep. She felt so tired. So tired that not even dreams have visited her that night.

A week has passed since she took the city. And nine days since that supper with Jon. She wanted to see him, but there was no chance for them to be alone. It was mostly lord Beron who would come to the meetings she held with her advisers and commanders and even he noticed her disappointment for arriving alone. Jon remained with his men, they took residence in one of the fighting pits. It was easiest way to house a company of three hundred armored riders there, though its owner protested. In vain as one of her first decrees was to close the fighting pits.  
It was not very popular move, even some newly freed slaves were keen on this Meereenese tradition.  
She was not and men killing men to entertain other men will not take place in Meereen ruled by Breaker of Chains.

"King Joffrey Baratheon is dead." Jorah reported that morning "Muredered at his own wedding."

Her face could not hide how pleased she was with this news. 

"And we've taken the Meereenese navy, Your Grace." Barristan added.

"The Second Sons took the Meereenese navy." Daario corrected him.

"Who told you to take their navy?" her tone was changed to chiding right away.

"No one." he replied while taking a dried fig from the table. 

"So, why did you do it?" her tone was even more stern now.

"I've heard you like ships." Daario answered, grinning at Ser Barristan.

She turned aside and pondered for a while, then looked back at Naharis: "How many ships?"

"Ninety-three, Your Grace." Selmy answered. "How many men can they carry?" 

"Ninety-three hundred, not counting sailors." was his answer. 

"Would that be enough to take King's Landing?" she looked at Jorah.

"The Lannisters have more." he said, his voice rang with uncertainty.

"They've been fighting Joffrey's wars for years. They're tired, dispersed..." Barristan told him "...and now their king is dead." 

Daario was nodding while old knight spoke: "Eight thousand Unsullied, two thousand Second Sons, sailing into Blackwater Bay  
and storming the gates without warning."

She looked at Jorah again with lifted eyebrow. "It's hard to say..." he shrugged "...it could be enough.  
But we're not fighting to make you Queen of King's Landing. Ten thousand men can't conquer Westeros."

"The old houses will flock to our Queen when she crosses the Narrow Sea." Barristan said with certainty. 

"The old houses will flock to whichever side they think will win as they always have." Jorah was not at all convinced.

"Of what old houses do we speak?" Beron said "My kinfolk is slain and North was given to those that betrayed them, Tullys are broken as well. Tyrells, albeit Joffrey is dead, will not break their alliance with the Lannisters. Vale and Dorne are more silent than a grave. Lannisters have emerged as victors. True, Stannis Baratheon is still alive, he lingers on for some reason, but is no true threat for the lions." 

"I see that your information on how things are in Westeros are quite abundant, my lord." Selmy told him.

"With years, I have learned to read what is not written and hear what is not said, Ser."

"So, what are you telling me, lord Beron Stark?" Daenerys asked as she valued his advice.

"For you to cross the Narrow Sea now, Your Grace, it would mean a certain defeat.  
And mayhaps the end of every hope for you to reclaim the Iron Throne."

Jorah nodded and stood up: "There's other news. From Yunkai. Without the Unsullied to enforce your rule, the Wise Masters have retaken  
the control of the city. They've reenslaved the freedmen who stayed behind and sworn to take revenge against you."

She looked at the grim faces of Grey Worm, Missandei and even Daario then turned around, towards the door which led on the terrace. 

"And in Astapor..." Jorah continued "...the council you installed to rule over the city has been overthrown by a butcher named Cleon  
who declared himself His Imperial Majesty. "

She swallowed hard before saying: "Please... leave me."

They all rose up and walked out. Daario, Grey Worm who same as Missandei was not even sitting, Ser Barristan, Beron. 

"Not you, Jorah..." she said so man of Bear Island remained. 

"It appears my liberation of Slaver's Bay is not going quite as planned." Daenerys said as she turned to look at him.

"You could sail for Westeros and leave it all behind. The boy sits on the Iron Throne, the boy many believe to be a bastard with no right to it. They've never been more vulnerable..." he said. 

She gave him a hint of smile: "You counselled me against rashness once in Qarth. I did not listen. It all worked out well." 

He smiled at those words as well. She paused before saying: "How can I rule Seven Kingdoms if I can't control Slaver's Bay?  
Why should anyone trust me? Why should anyone follow me?" 

"You are a Targaryen. You are the Mother of Dragons." Jorah said. 

She turned around to look outside again: "I need to be more than that." Then she turned to him:  
"I will not let those I have freed slide back into chains. I will not sail for Westeros."

"What then?" he asked. 

"I will do what queens do. I will rule." 

Daenerys grew to like Meereenese evenings. Was it because setting sun marked the end of another day that were becoming more and more tiring, as petitioners were now coming before her in scores; was it simply for the calm which hours after sundown brought, she could not tell. She only knew that she liked resting on the daybed in the shade of persimmon tree, until darkness would cover everything around her and then it was time for her to take the night rest. Sun was not even setting when her eyes began to close and she dozed off, surrendering to fatigue.  
She opened her eyes when she felt warm touch on her cheek. Before her was a face she thought of many times during last days and even more during nights. Grey eyes were looking at her lovingly and then his lips touched hers.

"Jon..." was all she managed to say when they parted that first kiss and she threw herself in his embrace. "... are you all right?  
I know what happened..."

"I am all right... no... I am sad and angered and..." he said with his arms around her. 

"Jon... I am so sorry for your loss... if there's anything..." 

"I've come to be with you if you will have me..." he said with a sigh.

"Of course I will have you. I've thought of you a lot since our supper." "As have I..."

"Come then... have you eaten? I don't have much in my chamber but I'll happily share it with you..." 

Jon looked at small bowl with boiled eggs, sliced sausages and sweet bread: "Well, you weren't lying about not having much."  
He wore only light-grey tunic and dark-blue trousers, there was not even a belt on him and he surely was not armed.  
"What?" he asked noticing her frown "Ser Barristan took everything from me before letting me near you. Good thing I have my clothes on."

"For now..." she whispered to herself and smiled at him: "Ser Barristan acts as it is expected from Queensguard.  
You could have been an assassin."

"I could not. I'd rather harm myself before letting anything happen to you. I want you to know that." Jon looked straight in her eyes.

"I know that already... It's been days since we talked. Tell me now, are you truly all right?" she said with soft voice.

"Last few days I was thinking of Robb and... how we grew up together... of happier days.  
Then I thought of my father, of Bran and Rickon, of Arya..." 

"Arya is your sister, right?" 

"Yes... my youngest sister. We were very close. She looks very much as I do.  
Father used to say she takes after our aunt, Lyanna." 

"She is held prisoner in King's Landing with your other sister." Daenerys said.

"I thought so too... but, Beron got a long letter from lady Melissa. News and rumors travel between King's Landing and Pentos.  
Lannisters don't have Arya, otherwise they'd display her on the court. Word is that she is missing since our father was executed.  
I don't trust she is alive..."

Sigh escaped him, making Daenerys to squeeze his hand: "She could be... mayhaps she is hiding..."

He took her hand and kissed her: "Thank you for trying to make me feel better. It is not an easy task." 

"It is a task I will gladly take, Jon." she said placing her hand on his cheek.

He smiled: "Let us not talk of sad tidings then... How is Queen of Meereen?"

"I am afraid that you'll be hearing more sad tidings then..." she sighed "... all the good I have done in Astapor and Yunkai has been undone."

"I've heard. Of butcher emperor and of Wise Masters ruling the yellow city again. What will you do?"

Her gaze lowered: "I don't know yet... tell me, was it too cruel what I've done to masters of Meereen?"

"It was as they have deserved. You should not be questioning yourself on that matter, Dany."

Her eyes suddenly glowed: "How did you just call me?" "Dany. That is short for Daenerys, is it not?"

"Last one who called me that was Viserys..." "I will not call you that if you mislike..." Jon said.

"No, I liked it. How you say Dany. With that Northern accent of yours..." she smiled at him "...some say that only mad people don't question themselves."

"Aye..." he said "...that is true, but those who rule or command should weigh things before decision is made. Afterwards, it is of no use."

"Have you ever done things you've regretted?" she asked. 

Jon took a deep breath: "Many times. This scar on my head reminds me of one such time."

"I would like to hear that tale..." Daenerys said smiling. "I could tell it so dawn will find us here. Or I could tell it in in few words..." he japed.

"I have time... so, tell the longer tale, please." she said placing a kiss on his lips.

They were lying next to each other on the terrace daybed, his arms were around her, she liked his first story and asked him to tell another one.  
"I would gladly tell more of my exploits in Disputed Lands as it entertains you this much, but this night is too damn hot for talking."

She got up right away: "I know how to remedy that. Come..." His eyes narrowed: "Come where?" "To water pool. We can bathe there."

"Bathe? That means..." he tried to say but she cut him: "That means you will get to see me bare, Jon.  
You've been disrobing me with your eyes when we supped together. I will spare you and me of that tonight."

"Seven hells... I thought you haven't noticed." "I am not blind nor dumb, Jon Snow. Come..."  
She quickly paced toward the pool, unlacing her gown, letting it slide down. Now she was naked and slowly entered the pool.  
He stood there, as under some spell. She was shoulder deep in the water:  
"Well, captain? Do you fear water as you fear dead locusts?"

"I fear nothing." Jon said as he threw his shirt aside, revealing his bare chest.  
Then he took off his linen boots and trousers, remaining in smallclothes.  
"Are you shy as well?" she mocked him. His eyes narrowed and he tore off the last piece of clothing from his body, walking into the pool.  
She looked at him approvingly.

"They speak of mermaids that dwell in the seas of the world... Your beauty surpasses them all..." he said before kissing her "...and all Valyrian goddesses too."  
"Are you a poet or a sellsword?" she smiled at him.  
"This night I am a man which..." he did not end his sentence, he kissed her with even more passion.

Their embrace was tight, their bare bodies touching under water. She could feel his manhood swelling and she liked that feeling, together with her own arousal. Jon's hands went down her back, he squeezed her nates before gently parting her legs. They were kissing all that time,  
pausing only to look at each other. He ran his hands from her breasts over her belly to the mound of light hair that grew between her thighs.  
Daenerys shuddered and bit her lower lip when she felt his finger on her most tender spot. His manhood was now hard as steel, she took it with her hand and placed it between her nether lips. She moaned softly as he began to move inside her, each new motion with more fervor.  
Jon coated her breasts with kisses, her head was leaned back. Only the sounds of their lovemaking were heard on the apex terrace.  
Daenerys was biting his neck, between loud moans, she was to reach her peak soon. Her back arched and she called out his name,  
her nails scratched his back when he spilled his seed inside her. She felt how strange but pleasant heat is spreading from her head to her toes,  
she looked at Jon and cupped his cheeks with her hands, wishing to kiss him and she felt skin hot as he was burning from fever.  
"Dany..." he said before kissing her passionately. She let her head resting on his shoulder as waves of pleasure were still shaking her.

They lay beside each other in her bedchamber, Daenerys lying on her belly with her head nestled in his chest, Jon with an arm around her.  
He sighed first, then chuckled. "What?" she asked stroking his left cheek.

"A Queen and a bastard sellsword. In Westeros, I'd be gelded for this."

"You're fortunate then that we're in Meereen." she chuckled.

"Bastard in the west is just as same bastard in the east." his voice was serious.

"Why do you speak so lowly of yourself, Jon? I care not that you are... a bastard.  
There is more nobility in your toe than in all the highborn of this city."

He ran his hand through her silver tresses: "Dany, you've been Queen here for mere days. You can't allow..." 

"I can't allow what? To be with you? I can. For I want to be with you." "I want that too. To be your man."

"You already are." she smiled and kissed him with a passion of woman in love.

"You do understand that we can never be seen together in public."

She sighed: "I do. But, Jon, it matters not to me that your name is Snow. It would be same for me if you were a Sand or a Stark." 

Then she got up from the bed and stood naked over him smiling: "I am a Queen, right?" 

"You are..." he said, looking at her with both love and lust. 

"A Queen can remove the taint of bastardy with a stroke, Jon Snow." she smiled at him even more.

"What are you saying?" "I say I will make you Jon Stark. And the Lord of Winterfell. That is what I am saying." 

Jon was now sitting in the bed, looking at her: "Lord of Winterfell? You will make me Lord of Winterfell?" 

"I will, Jon. If that is what you want. I know I do. When I reclaim my throne, all of North will be yours." 

Jon remained silent, she could tell he is pondering of it. "My other sister is still alive. Last Stark living."

"I've been told she is married to a Lannister. Her children with that man will not be Starks, but Lannisters. Taking sway over North."

He nodded: "Once she give them heirs, they'll kill her as well. Lions in wolf skin could inherit the North... I will not allow that."

"You see, there are many benefits of you not being a Snow anymore, Jon. What do you say?" 

"I say I cannot think proper with you in nameday suit standing before me." Jon said as he was rising up from the bed to take her in his arms.


	10. JON

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**JON**

_He's never been a bastard_

"He truly likes you."

Daenerys said watching how her dragon of green and bronze scales nuzzles him.

All three were on the terrace of the Great Pyramid's apex, the largest one, of black and red color, who appeared to be most attached to Daenerys, one of cream and gold scales, Viserion who seemed to be the tamest of the three and Rhaegal.

"He better. He is eating charred meat from my hand. And I would like to keep this hand."

She chuckled: "He will not hurt you. He trusts you. Strange, I would expect Viserion to be more friendly to you."

"Why?" he asked "Viserion always acted best with other people. Rhaegal did not. He is more like Drogon toward strangers." 

"Then I should consider myself lucky... they all seem bit larger than last time I saw them and that was... what? A fortnight ago?" 

Daenerys nodded: "Dragons grow fast when they're free. That is why my family could not breed large dragons after they've locked them in the Dragonpit." 

"I've heard those stories. Largest one was size of a small dog when he died. I guess they're not meant to for locks, bars and chains." 

"No one is, Jon. Man or beast." she said and then smiled looking how Rhaegal is pushing his head into Jon's side: "He wants more..." 

"You'll go fat..." Jon said giving a handful more of meat to green dragon. He let out a sound that seemed to Jon as Rhaegal was countering his words. 

It was as strange and unexplainable to Jon same as it was that first time he was near dragons, two weeks ago, why is this one acting so. And the other two were unbothered by him. Creatures he has read of from old, thick books maester Luwin had in Winterfell's library, creatures that he could see only as drawings in those books were before him as living flesh. They did not look as on those drawings, made by men many years ago since last Targaryen dragon died in King's Landing. He wished he could remember more of texts from those books but that was long ago, when he was half as old than he is now. Dany knew of dragons even less than him, she learned of their ways as they grew. Few books about land, people and history of Seven Kingdoms she did possess, but only few lines were dedicated to dragons.

"Across the Narrow Sea, in the Citadel more than anywhere else..." he replied when she asked where could one find writings of dragonlore. "...and what they had there are only crumbs from knowledge that Old Valyria had of dragons." 

Four days have passed since she told him of her intention to legitimize him by decree, to make him Jon of House Stark. He pondered of it a lot alone, without telling even Beron about it. _He got it by bedding the Queen,_ he thought how some will say. His first visit to her apartments on the highest level of Great Pyramid did not went unnoticed by those closest to her. They saw him leaving that morning. Grey Worm saw him same as that lovely girl from Naath. Ser Barristan saw him, that could not be avoided, Jon came to him to reclaim his weapons. Old knight acted cold toward Jon giving him scabbard and belt, he could not let it pass without asking:

"Have I wronged you in any way, Ser Barristan?" "Why do you ask that, captain?" 

"The way you look at me tells me enough. It is plain to me that I am not to your liking and I want to know why." 

"Her Grace is still very young. She is noble and of good intentions, yet looks upon the world as all young do and oft acts hastily. You are quite the same and being near her..."

"Being near her, I will make Daenerys act more hastily? Is that what you're saying? That I will be one to ill advise her when making decisions?"

Selmy made a slight nod: "Among other things." "What other things are that, Ser?" 

"Young man, you same as that Daario Naharis which craves her, are poor choice of men for a Queen. I bear you no ill will, only telling the truth."

Jon's face darkened: "Why don't you say it as you mean it, Ser Barristan... that as a bastard I am so low even tying her shoelaces is above me. For bastards are creatures of no honor, but of lust and lies. That is known. You are a highborn. Do you think your honor is stainless? You served a madman who murdered my grandfather and my uncle. You stood by his side when they met their gruesome deaths. Then you served a drunk which whored his way through all of Westeros. And you would be serving Joffrey if he had not discarded you. I am a bastard, yes, but I will not have my honor judged by you or anyone else. And I will not be chased away from Daenerys." 

Barristan was taken aback by his words. He looked at Jon in silence as he was studying him, it seemed to Jon it lasts for hours... _he is one of the best swordsmen in the Known World and I have insulted him... should he ask to defend his good name in a duel, I am as good as dead..._ flashed in Jon's mind. Old knight lifted his head and said next:

"You have a certain temper, captain Snow. The more I see and hear you, the more it is there. I bewilders me how, but I see it. Take your sword and leave. I will forget what you just said to me." 

He returned two days later to spend an evening with Queen of Meereen. He gave his weapons to Barristan without saying a word.  
On the evening of the overmorrow, he was feeding Rhaegal on the terrace together with Daenerys. Selmy was present as ever, standing guard. Only when they retired to her chambers, did she give old Ser his leave. 

"What shall we sup tonight?" he asked. "Well, look at you acting as the man of the house..." she laughed "...your preferred dish is served. Honeyed locusts."

"I'd rather chew on that meat dragons are eating..." he said loudly, before he came to see Dany was jesting. He put her arms around her: "You take great pleasure in mocking me." 

"I do. I take great pleasures in many things I do with you..." "You have no shame, Daenerys Stormborn." She shook her head: "No. Not with you, Jon Snow. No shame and no regrets."

"You will stay." she said the next morning, still lying in bed, bare as on her nameday.  
He was already dressed in his dark breeches, white shirt that was washed at last by some wench that served Company of the Wolf in once fighting pit, and dark-grey sleeveless tunic.

"Stay for what?" he asked. "My counsel with Ser Jorah. I have told you of my intentions to send the Second Sons to reclaim Yunkai." 

"I reckon that will bring little joy to Daario Naharis. Being away from you." Jon said. "I know he lusts for me. That is why he gave me the Second Sons." 

"He lusts for you, he hates me. I know he's been calling me _queen's bedwarmer_ behind my back." 

"I hope it will not make you cross blades with him. He came from fighting pits..." 

"And I come from Winterfell." Jon hissed. Daenerys rose up: "I am serious, Jon. I know you're brave. You don't have to prove..." 

"Should he call me that to my face, he'll regret ever leaving that fighting pit. And I will say no more of it." 

She frowned at him: "As you wish. Now, go. Missandei will come to prepare me for today." 

He could not tell how long was he waiting on the terrace. When she came out, his eyes widened.  
Daenerys donned a floor-length silver dress with blue borders, dress made in a fashion that most of her upper body was bare,  
only her breasts and shoulders covered. Her silver tresses fell to the small of her back, unbraided. He gazed at her uncovered belly and navel, left in plain sight to all.

"Why that gaze?" she asked. " That dress seems to be unfinished from the waist up…" 

"This is not your North where women walk wrapped in furs. It is hot and I like this dress." "You know you're half naked, don't you?" 

"You're jealous..." she smiled "You don't have to be. Others can look, but only you can touch." 

"Well, I would prefer them not to look either." Daenerys gave him a dismissing look: "I am wearing this dress... and to use your own words... I will say no more of it."

"Ser Jorah..." he said to Mormont when he entered the council room where Daenerys was leaned on the map of Slaver's Bay. It was plain how Jorah was not pleased to see him.

"Khaleesi..." Jorah addressed the Queen. 

"You've come early." she answered. "Later than some..." were his next words and that made her frown.

"Jon Snow will take part in this counsel... You don't approve?" 

"It is not a question of approval. It is a question of trust." Jorah said not taking his eyes off Jon.

"You neither approve nor trust." her eyes followed Mormont as he paced around the table.

"How can I? He is a sellsword..." Jorah said, now standing right opposite to Jon.

"Didn't you fight for the Golden Company before pledging your sword to my brother?" she reminded him, which made Jon to grin.

"I did." Jorah admitted with unease. "I trust you." she said as he paced to stand next to Jon.

"You should be wary of sellswords. Daario Naharis killed his captains and dumped their heads at your feet when he grew tired of their commands. How could you ever have faith in men like that?" 

"Men, Ser Jorah?" Jon spoke at last "I trust you meant to say - a man. There's only one Daario Naharis and he is not here." 

"I could never have faith in a man like Daario. That is why I am sending him and the Second Sons to retake Yunkai." Daenerys said with stern voice.

Mormont was taken by surprise: "You have?" "I have." she said, looking at him.

"Without you there to rule, Khaleesi, I fear the masters will simply buy their time, wait for the invaders to leave and reassert control." Jorah warned.

"That is why I have ordered Daario to execute every master in Yunkai." Mark of disapproval was on Jorah's face which did not escape her.

"Masters tear babies from their mother's arms, they mutilate little boys by the thousands, they train little girls in the art of pleasuring old men, they treat men like beasts. As you said yourself."

Daenerys said those words with tone that said how much hatred she had for slavers. Jorah was not convinced:

"Herding masters into pens and slaughtering them by the thousands is also treating men like beasts. For slaves you freed brutality is all they've ever known. If you want them to know something else, you'll have to show it to them." 

She crossed her arms: "And repay slavers with what? Kindness? A fine? A stern warning?" 

"It's tempting to see your enemies as evil, all of them..." Jorah told her "...but there's good and evil on both sides in every war ever fought..."

"You're right..." Jon said as he listened discussion between the two "...there are good and evil men fighting under every banner. But both sides in every war ever fought cannot be equally right. Was my brother just as good and just as evil as Joffrey when he took arms against him? Evil men will always do evil. It is their way. Good men oft must do evil deeds for good to prevail. Or it never will." 

Jorah looked at Jon and was about answer him, but Daenerys was quicker: "Let the priests argue over good and evil. Slavery is real. I can end it. I will end it. And I will end those behind it." 

"I sold men into slavery, Khaleesi." Mormont said as he walked to her. "And now you're helping me show them to freedom." she told him.

"I wouldn't be here to help you if Ned Stark done to me what you want to do to masters of Yunkai."

"That is not the same, Ser Jorah..." Jon said in cold voice "...you knew the Northern law and the Northern ways that deem slavery as abomination. Your death sentence was well deserved."

"And so is the death of all the masters in Yunkai, captain Snow?" man of Bear Island looked at him now.

"I did not say that. Masters here do not know of any other way but to be masters. That is why they cling to it so." 

Daenerys looked at Jon: "So, you would not have me remove all the masters from Yunkai?" 

"No, not all of them." Her eyes narrowed, she was displeased with Jon now: "And why not?"

"Knowing that your army brings certain death to all, they'll fight till the bitter end. It will fill them with resolve. Yet, knowing that those who surrender shall live but not as masters, many will waver. Most people in the end chose life over death."

She looked at him for a heartbeat and her gaze softened:  
"Good. Ser Jorah, you will go and instruct Daario Naharis to deliver a message to the masters of Yunkai. They have choice. To live in my new world or they can die in their old one." 

Jorah smiled at her upon hearing those words. "Well, go and catch Daario before he leaves... tell him I changed my mind." 

"Yes, Khaleesi." he said and walked away. She turned to Jon and said in commanding tone: "You will attend all the meetings I have with my advisors henceforth. You'll be more useful that way than by grooming horses in that fighting pit..."

He looked at her, frowning: "As Your Grace wishes." 

Company of the Wolf used one of the smaller fighting pits as its barracks. It was located near the city's southern wall, between pyramid of House Reznak and that of House Yherizan. It provided enough room for three hundred men and their horses. Most of Meereenese have never seen a sellsword company from Disputed Lands and were wandering around the pit to quench their curiosity, children most of all. Some soldiers of the company would chase them right away, some would throw them fruits or remnants of their meals. Most daring among those once slave boys offered to clean the stables for a few coppers and were hired by serjeants.

"Possible new recruits..." one said looking at couple of boys that were about three and ten years old.

"They were collared only yesterday... you won't make warriors of such." other told him, looking at skinny boys with disdain.

"Wrong. Feed them well, train them well and they will fight everyone and everywhere. What gives man freedom better than sword?" 

Jon passed by them as he was looking for Beron. His kinsman was resting on the elevated part of the stands, that was shaded with weathered and filthy canvas. 

"You know, from afar it seemed this was a skin of some wild cat, a leopard or something of that sort, then I've learned those are bird shit stains." Beron chuckled.

"I gather you'd prefer to be beneath leopard skin..." Jon said grinning. 

"And you? Where have you been last night? In a brothel again? I know you wander around in the night. So much about you not lying with whores." 

Jon sighed. He did not tell his cousin about Daenerys. He decided not to, part of him hoped that Beron will learn of it himself as he went to couple of meetings in the Great Pyramid. Yet Beron knew nothing yet. 

"Beron, I... I was in the Great Pyramid last night. And the night before and two nights before that." 

Stark of Pentos looked at him: "In the Great Pyramid? Are you bedding handmaidens now?" 

"No. Beron..." Jon sighed again "...I was with Dany... Daenerys."

Beron stood up right away: "What?" "She and I... we are together. A couple... a man and wom..."

"I know what being a couple means, Jon..." he said aloud "...and you call her Dany." 

"I love her, Beron. It's only two weeks that we're together, but I do love her."

Beron lifted his head towards the morning sky and took a deep breath: "Gods, truly you are cruel."  
Then he looked at Jon: "You love her, you say. Does she love you?"

"She does. She... laugh at me if you will, say this is not way for a man to talk, but it's... when I'm with her it's as I am whole. And when I part from her..."

Beron looked at him: "I've never heard you talk as this. You truly must love her. That makes it all even worse."

Jon's face changed: "What makes it worse? I thought you'll be glad to hear this. Don't tell me how bastard should not crave for a queen.  
There's a way to remedy that as well. She wants to be with me, Beron. She said that if I want it, she will make me Jon of House Stark." 

"That is impossible. That cannot be." Beron said half absently.

"Why? Why it cannot be? All my brothers are dead. Arya most likely as well. Lannisters will use Sansa to get their hold over North.  
Daenerys will prevent that by legitimizing me. I will fight for Winterfell, I will fight for House Stark. As Jon Stark."

Beron swallowed hard: "You don't understand. You can't be a Stark." Jon's face reddened from anger, he spoke loudly:  
"I can! I am! My father was lord Eddard Stark! I am his son! And now I will bear his name!"

"You cannot!" Beron almost yelled "You can't be a Stark. That is not the name you can bear."

"What name can I bear? Snow? So I can remain a bastard all my life. With no right to own land, to have a proper family.  
And I should renounce Dany as well, only woman who does not see me as a bastard. Go to seven hells, Beron." 

Jon walked away in anger, cursing along the way. Men of the company were moving from his path, seldom did they saw young captain so enraged. Beron sat down, tears flooding his eyes as he watched Jon leaving: "You have the right to own not a piece of land or holdfast, but one entire continent, Aegon of House Targaryen." 

Commander of Company of the Wolf waited for the rest of that day for young captain, his cousin, to return. He did not.  
Beron was overseeing training, even rode out to patrol the southern parts of the city, hours went by but there was no sign of Jon. Word came to him captain Snow joined one of company's patrol that went together with the Unsullied to hunt down freedmen which turned robbers and were now harrying once masters and once slaves alike. _He will return, once his blood cools,_ Beron hoped. Yet, as sun of that day was going further and further westwards, to shine over land known here as Sunset Kingdoms, there was no sign of Jon. Beron wraped himself in light cloak as he sat on beneath the filthy canvas shade again. He would wait there for his cousin to return, he would try to speak to him again. Sky was clear that night and Beron looked up towards many stars, his thoughts wandered back to the year of false spring, unwanted memories came back. Then he felt something on his neck, cold and sharp. His gaze went down and he saw a man, hooded and dressed all in black standing over him, holding the tip of his sword on Beron's neck:

"Better not to move, Beron Stark." 

He knew that voice: "Barristan Selmy... have you gone mad?" "Could be that I am. We shall soon know." 

"What the... take that sword off my throat." "Not before I get my answers. And I will get them." 

"My men are all over..." "Your men are asleep and your guards are not much. You've trained them well, but not well enough to save you from me." 

"You're fucking mad, old man." Beron said loudly.  
Selmy pressed the sword harder and it pierced the skin: "I am old, mayhaps mad, but I am not deaf. You will speak much softly." 

Stark of Pentos nodded. "Good..." Barristan said "...I want to know of your young cousin. Who is he? Who is he truly?"  
"He's basta..." Steel pressed Beron's throat more causing blood to trickle.

"You were about to tell me he is Ned Stark's bastard, right? Well, I doubt that lord Eddard Stark bedded a woman of dragon blood.  
Twenty years ago, there was none to be bedded even if he wanted to. Save Queen Rhaella which was out of his reach."

"What are you jabbering about?" "Beron, do not try my patience. I've seen that boy of yours with Queen's dragons twice already.  
I saw dragon eating from his hand. Dragon that would otherwise tear any man's hand apart." 

Beron was surprised now, he remained silent, only shrugged. Barristan smirked at him: "I've served Targaryens long enough to learn some lore of dragons. Only those of Targaryen blood can act with dragons in that manner. Boy has all the traits of Targaryens, he is of short temper, proud and hot blooded. He does not have much of Starks, save the way he looks. And he looks nothing as Ned Stark did. So, again who is he truly?" 

"Ser Barristan, if I were to shout..." "Then I suggest you make a good choice of words for those will be your last. Speak, Beron." 

Beron let out a loud sigh before answering: "You've known his father well." "I did not know lord Eddard that well. If you think of him."

"You did. You were there, defeated in the joust, on that day when his father crowned his mother as Queen of Love and Beauty." 

Selmy's eyes widened and jaw dropped.

"Yes, Ser Barristan Selmy. My cousin is trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. His true name is Aegon Targaryen. He is the heir to the Iron Throne."

"Do not jape with it, Beron. I loved Rhaegar..." "And I loved Lyanna. I have proof of what I am saying. One written by your sworn brothers.  
Do you know how Gerold Hightower, Oswell Whent and Arthur Dayne have died?"

"In Dorne, fighting your lord Eddard Stark and his men." 

"True. Three knights of Kingsguard gave their lives when she was birthing a babe boy. That boy is Jon Snow." 

Selmy gave Beron a long gaze, then he lowered his sword: "Seven be merciful... You're many things, Beron, but not a liar... Yet how?" 

"Ned swore an oath to his dying sister and I swore an oath to him. He kept his oath till his last day. And I kept mine till now. For six and ten years Ned kept that boy safe, hiding him under bastard name. He then send him to me and Jon was at my side for two years. Boy wanted to join his brother in the war with Lannisters, but Ned's wife refused any notion of boy coming back. I thought it was a good fortune that my company went here, far from the Narrow Sea. I feared boy would run to Westeros, where he'd surely die. I want him to live. He's Lyanna's child. I loved her as she were my true sister."

"Beron, you knew that Daenerys Targaryen is in Slaver's Bay." Barristan said. 

"I did. What I did not know is that she will let Jon this near. For fuck sake, she is daughter of a king, he is a baseborn sellsword."

"Daenerys is not that kind of a queen. She's suffered greatly in her life, Beron. So she stands with those who suffer. That is why I follow her. " 

"Ser Barristan, you must not tell anyone..." 

"No. Enough of secrets. She must know. He must know. They are the last of Targaryens. And they love each other already." 

"Will she love him still when she learns who he truly is? That he is her King and she is not his Queen?"

Barristan let out a sigh: "That we shall know when we tell them. They will either turn on each other or..." Beron looked at him:"Or...?"

"Or they could be wed to unite their claims." Selmy said.

"Even if she were to admit his claim as stronger than hers, I doubt he'd take his aunt for a wife. This could end as..." 

"Beron, they are man and woman grown. Let them decide. That poor boy has lived under bastard name enough. They must be together when we tell them." 

"He left here in rage before noon and not yet returned. He could be anywhere." "No. There is only one place he could be." 


	11. TRUTH

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**TRUTH**

_A Targaryen, alone in the world, is a terrible thing_

"...so I was covered in flour from head to toe, waiting in the crypt, to scare them." 

"In flour?" she chuckled. "Yes, I wanted to look as ghost." Jon smiled, remembering.

"And where they scared? When they saw you?" "Sansa and Bran were scared beyond their wits. But not Arya. She punched me."

"She punched you?!" Daenerys laughed "she must have been a fearless child." "She was... she still is. I hope that she still is."

"I am sorry for what happened to your family, Jon. It happened to mine as well, before I was born. My father, my oldest brother, his wife,  
their babes... all killed. My mother died giving birth to me. Only family I had left was Viserys. And he... he was cruel and weak and frightened.  
Viserys said once that it was my fault, for being born too late."

"Why was it your fault?" he asked.

"He told me then that had I been born more timely, Rhaegar would marry me and not Elia of Dorne.  
Viserys thought I'd make my brother happy and he would not have needed... your aunt." 

"Your brother took my aunt Lyanna. She was promised to another and she needed not your brother Rhaegar." Jon said dryly.

"Ser Barristan told me he loved her. And how thousands died for it."

He shrugged and then said: "It seems your brother Viserys oft said foolish things."

"He did. When I told him that he should have been born as a girl, he beat me. To punish my insolence." 

"He has beaten you? He's in luck then, being dead. I'd break both his hands if he were to raise a single finger to you." Jon said, his faced marked with anger and disgust.

"My champion." Daenerys smiled before kissing his cheek "Will you stay with me this night? You could wash and change your clothes.  
There's dust all over you." 

"I've patrolled the city with my men and some of Grey Worm's. For hours..."

"You're a captain, Jon. Is that not duty of common soldier or serjeant, at most?" she asked.

"It is. But I wanted not to look at Beron today. He wronged me. The last man I'd ever hope to do so and he did it." Jon said dryly.

"What did he do?" "It's better not to speak of it, Dany."

"As you wish. I liked it more when you spoke of your childhood in Winterfell... tell me more of your mischief.  
It seems to me you were an unruly child." "Most of the time I was sulking." he smiled.

They were sitting in the apex garden, watching how the last light of day disappears. Jon came to the Great Pyramid after walking or riding across nearly whole of Meereen. He changed three patrols that day and did not tire. His men said nothing, they were loyal to him as he was never such commander to shout "forward" at his men, he always yelled "with me", he charged first and they respected him for it, as much as sellswords can respect their commanders. Unsullied that patrolled with him named him _vēdros zokla vala,_ angry wolf-man as Ghost never left his side.  
His direwolf was sleeping in the garden, between rose bushes. Daenerys was cautious of Ghost at first, but this was their third encounter and large wolf warmed up to her, letting her even to scratch his ears. Seeing that, brought smile at Jon's face for second time that whole day.  
First time he smiled when he saw her, her silver tresses falling loose over her chest, she wore white and blue dress with only her arms being bare, much to his pleasure. He misliked her wearing garments that revealed too much of her body. She misliked his mislike, though it was more amusing to her. Still, one part of her approved him acting so. _He cares of me, that is good..._ were her thoughts.

"Your Grace..." Missandei walked on the terrace, in her light blue dress. Jon knew that many of his men lusted for lovely girl from Naath.  
And he was sure commander of the Unsullied craves for her as well. _Can a eunuch soldier feel desire to bed a woman._.. he wondered once when he saw how Grey Worm looks at Missandei.

"What is it?" Daenerys asked.

"Your Grace, Ser Barristan and lord Beron Stark have arrived. They ask audience with you." "This late?" "They claim it is urgent." 

She looked at Jon but he frowned as well. Next, she said to Jon: "Could it be they have a word from Yunkai? Then it is a grave news surely.  
They'd let the triumph wait till the morning." 

"It does not have to be so." he told her. "Why is not Ser Jorah with them?" Daenerys asked Missandei.

"I do not know, Your Grace. Only two of them await you in the council room." 

"Very well. Tell them I shall receive them in half an hour."

"Yes, Your Grace..." Missandei nodded, then said: "...they also asked of captain Jon Snow, if he were here." 

Queen frowned right away: "And what affair of theirs are his whereabouts?" "They wish for him to attend this meeting as well, Your Grace."

"Ser Barristan and lord Stark both seem to be forgetting themselves." she said.

"If Your Grace allows, I shall join your meeting with them." Jon said formally, though he noted a hint of smile on Missandei's face.  
He knew she approved of Daenerys and him, for she wanted to see her queen happy.

"I will allow it, captain." Daenerys said, equally formal. 

"Ser Barristan, lord Beron..." Daenerys said as she entered the council room "...you've asked to be received and I've granted you audience. You may speak."

Jon followed after her and gave Beron a disapproving gaze. Selmy and him were seated at one side of the table, while Dany and him chose the opposite side. She noticed the peculiar way Ser Barristan looked at Jon. 

"Well? I am listening." she said impatiently. Lord Commander of her Queensguard bowed his head slightly and said:  
"The reason why we came before you in this late hour, my queen, is that we must share with you the knowledge of greatest importance for House Targaryen." 

"For House Targaryen? You mean for me, Daenerys Stormborn." "For you and for your House." "I am the last of my House, Ser Barristan." 

Jon saw how old knight and his cousin have exchanged looks and how Selmy gestured to Beron with his eyes. Beron then reached for leather boot on his left foot and began to slowly tear the inside lining. He pulled out a thin metal case and opened it. Two folded parchments fell out, well preserved but old.

"What is the meaning of this?" Daenerys asked, one could hear her anger. Beron gave parchments to Ser Barristan and he spoke again:

"Here we have two documents, Your Grace, one written by your brother Rhaegar and the other signed by three knights of your father's Kingsguard. I vouch on my life and my honor these are not forgeries. Even after all these years I can tell your brother's handwriting and the signatures of my long gone sworn brothers." 

Daenerys shook her head: "And these two documents kept in a boot of all places concern me how?"

Beron said next: "Your Grace, your offer to make my cousin Jon a Stark is known to me.  
Save lasting gratitude for your will to make that royal decree, there nothing else to be said. Yet, it cannot come to pass."

Her eyes narrowed: "And why not? I deem it as necessary and Jon has deserved it. Or you disagree?"  
She placed her hand over Jon's and interlaced fingers with his. Jon looked at Beron, nearly letting a grin to come to his face.

"I beg you, read the parchments, Your Grace." Beron said "It will be far clearer afterwards."

She frowned at him and then took first document.

Her eyes went over the written lines a couple of times: "This is written and sealed by my brother Rhaegar it appears.  
He writes here of a child him and Lyanna Stark will have as a fruit of their marriage... and how a son will have claim to the throne."

Jon's eyebrows lifted, he grew up listening how Lyanna was kidnapped and raped by that man. What that piece of weathered parchment claimed is how they were married and were to have a babe. Daenerys then took the other parchment to read it.  
When she finished it, she asked Ser Barristan: "This one tells how Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell... Whent have guarded a boy named Aegon Targaryen which was born, few moons before I was, in Dorne. A son born to my brother by Lyanna Stark.  
My brother indeed had a son named Aegon. By his wife, Elia Martell. His head was crushed into wall by one of Lannister dogs."

"That is true. And when word of Rhaegar's firstborn son being butchered came to Lyanna Stark, she named her babe Aegon, to honor that poor babe." Beron said while she looked at him with utter disbelief. 

"What you're telling me is that my brother had two sons named the same. I find it very odd. But do say, what happened to the Aegon born by Lyanna Stark?" Daenerys said, her stance unchanged.

"Lyanna died on her birthing bed..." Beron's words made Daenerys to soften, remembering her own birth "...babe lived and was taken by her brother, Eddard. He raised him as his own...son." 

Jon's eyes widened and his mouth were open. Dany moved her hand from his as she were burned.  
"What in seven hells are you saying, Beron?" he asked.

"I am saying that Jon Snow was a mask, a cloak under which Aegon of House Targaryen was hiding for nine and ten years." Stark of Pentos said, trying his voice not to tremble. Daenerys sighed, leaning away from Jon: "That is impossible!"

"No, Your Grace. The man sitting next to you is of your blood, son of your brother Rhaegar. He is last male heir of House Targaryen." Ser Barristan told her and then he made a slight bow to Jon who looked at him and his kinsman across the table, then his gaze shifted to young queen: "Dan..", he reached for her hand but she moved further away from him as she was standing up:

"Do not speak to me. And do not touch me!"

Her voice was loud now and it left him bewildered. Violet eyes were looking at him an all he could see in them was hurt and betrayal. 

"Others take you, Beron!" Jon said and stormed out from the council room, making Beron to go after him.

Daenerys looked at Ser Barristan, stabbing him with her eyes and then clapped her hands. "Your Grace..." he said, standing up. 

" _Your Grace..."_ she asked "...am I truly your queen? Or mayhaps this mummer show that I've just applauded to serves a purpose?  
To put an impostor as head of House Targaryen? I should put you and lord Beron and... Jon Snow in dungeon."

"My queen, I do not understand..." She frowned: "But I do. Very well. First you've come to my service, earning my trust, being my Queensguard since Astapor. At Yunkai Beron Stark and Jon Snow join my ranks, also earning my trust. Jon earned more than trust. And now, you come before me with this tale of a lost Targaryen prince. One I should be bowing to... for two pieces of parchment say that he is a son of the Last Dragon.  
That, Ser, is a treason."

"Your Grace, I would lay my life for you. You wrong me greatly by accusing me so." old knight protested. 

"I've been betrayed before. A witch whom I've saved betrayed me. I've lost my unborn child for that.  
I was betrayed in Qarth as well, nearly losing my children. And now, it seems I've been betrayed again." 

"Your Grace..." Selmy tried to speak, but she cut him: "A clever ruse, I must admit. Bring a young, comely man near me who appears to be noble and loyal and true. I've let him near me and then you came out with this... Aegon, son of Rhaegar. One whose claim to the Iron Throne  
is stronger than mine. What was the intent? For me to kneel before him and give him my armies and my dragons, no matter how small they still are? Who is this Jon Snow truly?"

Ser Barristan looked at her, he too was now both hurt and angry, yet he said with calm voice: "For all I know, he truly is son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark." 

She shook her head: "And proof of that is what? Old scrolls kept in a boot? In a boot..."

"Lord Beron has told me he keeps it in his vault when in Pentos and in his boot whenever away." 

Daenerys smirked: "What a foolishness... Why?" "So that these documents never leave his side. He chains his boots to his bed.  
I'd do the same if I were him." he answered. She looked at him: "Are these two parchments so important?"

"They were signed by the finest men I have ever known. Your brother. And my sworn brothers."

"Documents can be forged. Men lie." she looked at him, anger ringing in her voice. 

"Men do. But dragons are always true." Selmy replied defiantly. She came closer to him: "What does that mean?"

"Dragons would never let near a man or a woman who is not of Targaryen blood so close as yours have let Jon... Aegon."

"Do not call him that." she hissed. "That is his true name. I am certain of it. You have seen what I have seen. Dragon eating from a hand of one thought to be a Northern bastard. Half-Stark, half some poor wench. It bewildered me, Your Grace, how can that be...  
And now I know why that was. Dragons know their own." 

She looked at him and Barristan saw in her eyes a small trace of wish that his words were true:  
"I thought my children accepted Jon for their mother did the same."

"It is never as that with dragons, Your Grace, they make their own choices." 

"So you trust Jon to be... Rhaegar's son..." "I do, my queen. The manner your dragon acts with him firmed my belief. That boy looks as true Stark, but nothing like lord Eddard and I have seen him oft when he was King Robert's Hand. He was raised among Starks, no doubt of that.  
But his temper, Your Grace, his temper is Targaryen in many ways. He said insults to my face when not so long ago." 

"He dared? Why?" she was surprised. "You were the reason, my queen. He was willing to risk crossing swords with me for he misliked my thoughts of him as your... He loves you. Gods, I thought Rhaegar's son to be only a bastard sellsword. I nearly shed blood I have sworn to protect." 

"Love... trust..." she sighed ".... I thought I love Jon Snow. I know I sound as a little girl and not a queen, but I was truly happy with him these few days, Ser Barristan, after many moons I felt happy. A fool's happiness." 

"Your Grace, a man brought you joy, not his name. I do not know what else to say. As I have chosen to believe that Jon is in truth Rhaegar's last living child, you may choose not to believe it, alas for House Targaryen."

"Only Targaryen I've known was a weak fool." she said bitterly.

"Then, mayhaps, Your Grace, an hour has come for you to know another one, who is strong. And wise, despite his hot blood." Selmy countered. 

Jon walked out from the council room, leaving Daenerys, Selmy and Beron behind. His mind was as maelstrom now, thoughts swirling one after another... _Rhaegar... Lyanna... tower... Aegon... heir..._ he felt as he could tear someone apart with his bare hands and he felt broken as never before in his life. Somehow, he found himself in the throne room that was empty and half dark.

"Jon! Wait!" he heard his kinsman's voice which made him turn around: "I curse the day when I come to Pentos, Beron!"

"Then you may just as well curse the man who raised you, you damn young fool. He sent to you me."

"Who am I Beron? Am I a son of some peasant woman that Ned Stark impregnated? Or do I come from a rape that Rhaegar Targaryen did to another's man betrothed?" 

Words barely left his mouth, when Beron's fist struck him down, bleeding his upper lip: "Mind your tongue, boy.  
You will honor the dead of our family. And dead of your other family. Or by the Seven, I will beat you. You're twice as young than I am, but I will beat you." 

Jon spat the blood coming from his broken lip: "Our family?? Who is my family? Starks? Targaryens? Who? Who am I?"

Beron grabbed his collar: "You are son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. You are a Targaryen and a Stark, first man ever to have those two bloods in his veins. A dragon and a wolf. Not a dumb cunt as you act now." 

Jon pushed his hands aside: "Everyone told me I was a bastard, since I could remember. A taint on my father's honor. A shame to be hidden away when king and high lords come visiting."

"You damn fool. There was nothing more honorable your father did than when he took a dishonor of fathering a bastard upon himself just to keep you safe. For he promised that to your dying mother..."

Jon's eyes were filling with tears: "My mother... He never told me of her and I asked him oft who she was..."

Beron said with solemn voice: "She was lady Lyanna of Winterfell. Beautiful, willful, brave. She died giving life to you, Jon. And she loved your father, your true father. They were man and wife. There was no rape, no abducting. You are their child. Swords of three knights of Kingsguard watched over you as you came to this world and died for you. Same as men who fought them died for you. You are the last man of House Targaryen. And the last man of Starks of Winterfell. You were never a bastard."

Tears went down Jon's face: "Why my father never told me anything... Why would he have me on the Wall if I am who you say I am?"

Beron grabbed his shoulder: "He never wanted you on the Wall, you fool. That is why he sent you to me, to Pentos. Away from Catelyn's hate. Away from Robert Baratheon and his wish to kill every Targaryen he could find. There was no other way but to hide you under bastard name." 

Jon took a deep breath: "Why now? Why did you tell me this now? After nine and ten years?"

"I had no choice. Jon. Selmy saw you with her dragons. And ever since you've met Daenerys Stormborn, you have acted more as one of them,  
as a Targaryen. Gods will know, mayhaps your dragon blood was awaken when you came near another Targaryen or near living dragons.  
He kept his eye on you for days. And when she offered to make you a Stark, there was no turning back. I had to stop that.  
A Targaryen cannot make another Targaryen to be a Stark." 

"We should have never come to Slaver's Bay. Never. Robb died and I was on the other side of the world, not with him. I was here for what?" Jon said bitterly. 

"We came here for I wanted you as far from Westros as I could." Beron said calmly. "Why? My place was with my brother!"

"Your place is to live! I loved your mother as a sister, same as Ned loved her. You were all that we had left of Lyanna and we both wanted you to live to be a man, to have a family. Not to freeze on that fucking Wall. Not to die by a Lannister sword. Or by a crossbow bolt which Catelyn Stark would make sure to find its way into your back." 

"She would never..." Jon said.  
"Trust me, she would. With your father dead, she would. You'd be dead in your very first battle in Westeros. Slain by foe or by a _friend_." 

Dark-haired Targaryen made few paces and then slumped on one of the stairs which lead to the throne of Meereen.

"I am now utterly lost. What should I do now? I don't know who I am..." Beron gave him a warm look:  
"You are Aegon of House Targaryen and of House Stark, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and heir to the Iron Throne." 

"I feel as none of what you just said." he sighed "And I do not feel as Jon Snow anymore."

"Good. You have worn the mask of a bastard for too long. And you will learn how to be who you truly are." 

Another sigh came from Jon: "She hates me now... I saw it in her eyes."

Beron placed hand on his shoulder: "I know she means a lot to you. Yet, Jon, this will be a great trial for that young queen.  
We shall soon know if she is Mad King's daughter or Rhaegar's sister. If she is the latter, then you are a fortunate man.  
Should you find Aerys the Second inside her mind... flee from that girl as far as you can." 

Jon shook his head: "I thought I was a bastard bedding a queen. Now I am a man who bedded his aunt."

Beron shrugged: "And? Gods will not curse you for that, Seven same as the old gods of my grandfather.  
You must speak with her, Jon, it is only fair." "Where are you going?" Jon asked as he saw him leave.

"You know what you must do now. I'll wait for you before this pyramid." 

Jon remained sitting on the throne stairs. He was aware that guards on this level of the pyramid surely have heard him and Beron talking. Or quarreling. He could hear footsteps of the Unsullied coming, yet they were going away. Lord Commander of the Queensguard was next to enter the throne room, he walked to Jon, they were looking at each other for a while and then Ser Barristan bowed to him and left. Jon shook his head again watching the old knight leave. He stared at the dun stones of the throne room, he could not tell for how long, immersed in his thoughts. Then he felt something brushing against him. It was Ghost. "I am sorry, boy, I almost forgot you're sleeping in that garden." 

"That is not the only thing you forgot, Jon Sno... or should I say Aegon Targaryen." Daenerys was standing two stairs over him, holding two parchments in her hand. 

"That is Beron's, not mine. And still in one piece..." he replied. 

"One of these documents were written by my brother. I've never seen his handwriting till now. This is my family's history, even." 

"And my family's history, as it seems... both of them in truth." 

Her eyes narrowed, so he said: "You chose not to believe those documents and yet you've kept them whole."

"I did not say I do not believe them. Nor I said that I trust them." she answered.

"So, what do you say?" he asked looking in her eyes. 

She turned her gaze away and sighed: "You do not know how much I want for this to be true, for you to be my family..." 

"You do?" Jon wondered. She shook her head: "Do you truly believe that I relish in knowing of me being the last of my House, the last Targaryen, one that will never bear a living child. If you do, than you are a fool."

"I did not seem you want this to be true when we were told." "I did not seem that you want that either!" she said loudly. 

"No, it did not. I don't know what I want... My whole life was a lie. Nine and ten years living as someone I was not. Only to learn this night who my true parents were." 

"You fared better as Snow in Winterfell than me as Targaryen in Braavos and Pentos, I assure you of that. Your childhood was happy compared to mine which was nothing but roaming from one place to another." 

He sighed: "So, what now? Where do we go from here?" "It depends on your plans, _Aegon_." 

"It depends on yours as well. Will you see me as your enemy or as your... what are now anyway?"

"We are man and woman that could make each other very happy or miserable. That is how I see it." Daenerys answered. 

Jon chuckled, his gaze on the floor: "This will make you laugh... I hoped that once, when my name will be Stark that I would... give you my name. Well, as it appears, you already have it."

"You pondered of marrying me?" she asked, her face softened. "I did." Jon's voice echoed with seriousness. 

"We've been together not even for three sennights and you thought of proposing..." Daenerys said, 

"When you know, you know." he answered, this time with slight anger. 

She sat down next to him, yet not looking at Jon: "We have a choice, you and I." 

"What choice is that?" he asked. "To bring the last and final ruin of House Targaryen. Or to try our best to restore it to what once was." 

"So you do believe this to be true? That I am... Aegon Targaryen?" he looked at Daenerys now. Grey eyes stared into violet again.  
"I want to. I want to believe it. If you are a liar, a trickster, no god in Westeros or in Essos will save you from me, Jon Snow." 

"And if I am truly the one these documents claim I am?"  
"Then we'll fight against slavery together. Against all our enemies together. As last of the Targaryens." 

"And what of our love, Dany?" he asked. Daenerys looked away again, he could tell it was not easy for her:  
"I've given my love to Jon Snow. Not to Aegon Targaryen. He has to earn it same as Jon Snow did."

"I am the same man..." Jon countered. "No. You are not. You will never be the same man again... now go. We shall meet again in the morning."

She stood up again: "I wish you a good night and I hope for both of us to sleep peacefully, Aegon." 


	12. SER GRANDFATHER AND THE GIRL OF NAATH

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**SER GRANDFATHER AND THE GIRL OF NAATH**

_You betrayed me... from the first_

"Your Grace, you've barely eaten..." 

Plate with boiled eggs, sliced sausage, bacon and pomegranates was not touched and cup of chilled lime juice was not even half empty. She was braiding the silver tresses of her queen whose features spoke of a restless night. It was late morning and word of what took place the evening before has spread through the Great Pyramid. Missandei was certain that even those in the stables on the ground level of this eight hundred feet tall building had some version of what caused the loud voices on the uppermost floor. She has heard the most of it, her being Queen's interpreter was never too far from Her Grace and so it was last evening as well. She heard two kinsmen debating loudly in the throne room, she heard Ser Barristan and she heard Queen Daenerys and captain Jon. Missandei knew what revelation was told to Breaker of Chains. Naathi customs were different than those of Westeros. On her island they knew not of marriage and thus bastardy was unknown to her. Naathi man would remain with one woman or he would bed more and none of them would feel anger or hate towards the others. Woman could do the same. Her people shunned violence, fights and wars. Killing is that much abomination to them no living being was killed on Naath and Peaceful People, as they were called by the outsides, never ate flesh, only vegetables and fruit. It was a blessing and a curse in the same time. Naath was a place of peace and harmony. And source of most docile slaves in the Known World, that brought slavers and pirates on the white beaches of Missandei's island. She was taken as very young and her memories of home blurred, but she would never trade ways of her people for ways of Westeros to which her queen belonged.

 _Bastard, trueborn, baseborn, highborn, lowborn, rightful, heir, nephew, aunt_... she heard all those words being uttered the night before. She thought how Westerosi from the day they were born were marked by their birth. When she first heard the word _trueborn_ she thought that some in Westeros are then _falseborn._ Only later Missandei learned that opposing word was _baseborn_ as it was abasing for both men and women of Sunset Kingdoms to have children outside marriage. She could fathom the concept of marriage, still it was not much clear to her why those who were wed and thus attached to only one woman or man still seek pleasures with another woman or man. Way of Naath was much more honest to her than what people of Slaver's Bay, the Free Cities and Seven Kingdoms were doing. Love should be free and true.

Love should also be joy. Her Queen was happy ever since that comely, tall dark-haired young man of grey eyes came to her life. It was a very brief time, but Daenerys Targaryen was never smiling more since Missandei met her. She liked captain Jon Snow of Company of the Wolf. He was a sellsword, but she saw nobility and honor in that man, he was nothing like Daario Naharis, a man whose loyalty was driven only by desire for Daenerys Stormborn. That kept Tyroshi sellsword from lustful gazes at Missandei herself. Last evening changed it all. Though it was not clear to Missandei why. A long hidden secret came out that Jon Snow, sellsword captain was in truth Aegon Targaryen, a prince of her queen's family and her brother's son. _Why sadness then_ , Naathi girl wondered. Her queen should be joyful more than ever. Her lover was even closer to her than she could ever hope. _Westerosi folk are truly queer,_ she concluded.

"I was not hungry, Missandei, but thank you."

"You should eat, Your Grace, it will be a long day and many petitioners will come to seek audience." 

"I know. I haven't slept well too." queen answered. "Forgive me for being too familiar, were you troubled by what took place last evening?"

"I was... I still am." silver-haired woman said pensively. "Your Grace, captain Jon Snow is in truth your family, if I have understood it right." 

"You have." "His true name and title is Prince Aegon Targaryen." Missandei said.  
Daenerys turned to her and smile came to her face: "Yes, it is. Prince Aegon Targaryen... his father was the Crown Prince of Seven Kingdoms,  
my oldest brother Rhaegar. When he fell in the battle and my father was slain in King's Landing with Rhaegar's children, my other brother Viserys was declared king. When he was crowned with molten gold in Vaes Dothrak, I remained the last of House Targaryen." 

"Until last night." Missandei said styling her hair. "Yes, until last night."  
"Now, you are not alone anymore." was next what Missandei said and Daenerys sighed: "I hope that with all my heart. But I am afraid..."

"Of what Your Grace?" "History of my family is... there was a time when Targaryens were killing Targaryens for the sake of power, dragons were killing dragons and dragonriders were killing dragonriders."

"I have read of it when I was learning to speak Common Tongue. My former master had books written by learned men of Westeros.  
He told me they proudly wear chains as symbol of their learning, not as us slaves." 

"Maesters, yes. Links on their chains are made of different metal. Silver stands for healing practices, gold for arithmetic, bronze for histories..." Daenerys told her.

"Your Grace, but there was a time that lasted so many years when wise king and good queen ruled, which came from your family.  
Their love withstood many challenges." 

"...and the Realm never saw their likes again." Daenerys sighed.  
"Yes... that is what the book said." Missandei nodded. "You like him, I can tell." queen said next. 

"Captain Jon... Prince Aegon... yes, Your Grace, I do. Sellswords are oft foul men, but he was always kind to me. I find him to be a good man, Your Grace." 

"Do you think he is a good man for me?" Daenerys asked.  
Missandei smiled: "If I may be so bold, you know he is a good man for you, my queen. You need not to hear that from me." 

"I like that about you, Missandei, your candor..." "Then, may I ask what truly troubles you, my queen?"

"I fear that Jon could change, same as Viserys changed... lust for power can take away the kindness from even the best of men. I fear that he could turn against me." 

"Your Grace, you have power now. You did not have much of it when you came to Astapor. You had a ship, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan and handful of Dothraki. Your dragons were small then. Now you have two armies, dragons have grown and you have conquered Slaver's Bay.  
Yet it did not take away your kindness. You want the help those that cannot help themselves, even more than in Astapor."

"What are you telling me, Missandei?"  
"That it could be same with Prince Aegon. That he will be even better man than he was as Jon Snow." girl of Naath said and saw the eyes or her queen glowing at the thought.

"My prince..." Ser Barristan Selmy called out, but it seemed he does not hear him. "My prince." he repeated, still nothing.  
"Prince Aegon!" he said loudly and that made young man who was taking off the saddle from his horse to turn around. 

They were at the ground level of the Great Pyramid and young captain has arrived for his agreed meeting with Daenerys.  
"Ser Barristan..." Jon said and Lord Commander bowed to him.

"As you can tell, Ser, I don't even respond to it _prince_ and _Aegon_ yet" "You will with time, prince." 

"I will take me some time to get used to it." Jon shrugged. Ser Barristan's face got mark of seriousness:  
"I came to ask your forgiveness, Prince Aegon. I have insulted you by calling you unfit for Queen Daenerys."

"There is nothing to forgive, Ser..." Jon replied and then asked: "...are you headed for the gardens on the other side of the pyramid?"

"I am. To oversee the taking down of nailed slavers corpses." 

"Unpleasant affair. And long overdue." grey-eyed Targaryen said. 

"Yes, I seem to remember your justice would have been of different kind." old knight replied.

"It would. Beheading twofold more masters than children they have nailed. Placing their heads on the spikes along the city walls for a sennight, then returning corpses to families." 

"My prince, I've seen many heads put on spikes of the Red Keep... some deserved it, some not." Barristan said.

"Ser, Daenerys and I differ only in manner of delivering justice. I know you speak for mercy. For you are a true knight. But slavers see mercy as lack of resolve, not for what it is. For centuries this was a lair of cruelty, showing mercy here must be a strange notion."

"Showing mercy can sometimes mean strength."  
Jon agreed: "That is so. Still, oft one must show ruthlessness first and only then mercy can follow." 

Barristan made an approving nod: "Spoken as a true Targaryen."

"And spoken as a true Stark. My fath... mother's forebearers of old have repelled the Andal invasion by being more ruthless than invaders.  
They did not make Bolton kings to kneel by kindness. Once your enemies are defeated, then you can show mercy."

"Masters are defeated, my prince."  
Jon disagreed: "I fear we have not seen the last of them, Ser. Coming of Daenerys to them is as a passing storm."

"Meereen is at peace since Her Grace took it." "I wish that were true. But this city brews under thin veil of peace, Ser Barristan.  
I've seen it on my patrols. Call it odd, but I know troubles are coming." 

Selmy smiled at him: "As is winter. You surely are of Stark blood." 

Jon nodded: "It seems I have both wolf and dragon blood. Mayhaps both are telling me not to drop my guard." 

"My prince..." Selmy bowed as he was about to leave.

"Ser Barristan..." he heard Jon's voice. "Yes, my prince?" "You knew my true father well I was told..."  
"I did. And his father and his grandfather." "I hope you will spare some time to tell me of them, things good and things bad." 

"I'll be honored to. You have your father's gift of leading. Seldom one can see sellswords so loyal to their captain." old knight said. 

"And to their commander. it was Beron who made our company to be so." Jon told him.

Knight of the Queensguard nodded once more and went towards the gardens. 

Barristan watched the Unsullied taking down the corpses of dead masters, nailed to wooden posts by the order of his queen. Stench of rotting flesh filled his nostrils and he could not look for long. Bodies were taken down, wrapped in blankets and thrown on carts. He turned away and was to climb the stairs to the upper level of the gardens when someone called his name. It was a boy of no more than ten namedays, by his clothes it was plain he was once slave. 

"Yes?" he said.  
Boy had a paper scroll in his hand and was offering it to him.  
"Who sent you?" he asked the boy and he rolled the scroll in his hand showing the seal of red wax with sigil which Barristan knew well.  
Hand of the King. Boy rushed away the very next moment leaving him to read the unrolled document.  
His face changed as his eyes went over the written lines.   
He has found Jorah Mormont on the shaded wooden terrace of the upper level of pyramid gardens. He was leaned over the map of the Known World, gazing from Meereen to King's Landing.

"Ser Barristan..." "Ser Jorah."

"Have I forgotten the council meeting?" Mormont asked.

"No, Ser Jorah." "If you're here to inform me of Ned Stark's bastard being a hidden Targaryen, I already know. And strongly doubt that story to be true..." 

"I am not here for that... no." he replied placing the scroll on the table, between Jorah's arms. Exiled Northerner looked at it, then at Barristan with no words, then asked: "What's this?"

"A royal pardon... signed by Robert Baratheon." he said calmly. Jorah's face changed and he gazed at Selmy with eyes of guilt. He took the scroll and began to read, swallowing hard.

"You spied on her." Barristan said.  
"Who gave you this?" Jorah asked, his voice slightly trembling.  
"Does it matter?" he answered with a question reaching for the scroll.

Mormont hesitated for a while, then he gave Selmy the document that revealed him as a spy for now dead ruler of Seven Kingdoms. 

"Have you told her?" Jorah asked, his face marked with what could be nothing else but shame.

"I wanted to tell you first. Man to man... rather than go behind your back." Barristan told him. 

"Let me speak with her in private..." Jorah pleaded. 

"You'll never be alone with her again." knight of Queensguard answered before leaving.

Not long after, Jorah entered the throne room of the Great Pyramid. Daenerys was seated on the simple stone bench that was Meereenese throne since she had the harpy throne carved in wood destroyed. At her side stood Missandei. Throne was on the stone platform that was elevated some four feet above the broad stairway. On its upper end stood Grey Worm on the left and Ser Barristan on right side of the throne. Daenerys donned her white and blue dress, her face was stern and cold as she looked Jorah climbing the stairs. He managed the walk only halfway up when both Selmy and Grey Worm stepped before him. Jorah stood straight, his hands behind his back. 

"Why did the Usurper pardon you?" Daenerys asked.

"If we could speak alone..." Jorah said in half whisper. "No. Speak to me here. Explain it to me." Daenerys said.

"Who do you think send this to Meereen? Who profits..." Jorah told her "...this is the work of Tywin Lannister. He wants to divide us. If we're fighting each other, we are not fighting him." 

"The pardon was signed the year we met..." one could tell Daenerys was irked, then her voice softened: "...why were you pardoned unless you are saying this document was forged?" 

"It is not forged." came from Jorah. "Why then?" Queen's tone was marked with anger. 

"I've sent letters to Varys, the spymaster of King's Landing." Mormont answered.

"What was the content of these letters?" Daenerys asked. "Information." "What information?" 

"When you and Viserys arrived in Pentos...his plan to marry you to khal Drogo...when you were married... when your brother died..." Jorah was telling her everything.

"You told him I was carrying Drogo's child?" she asked, Barristan could hear slight tremble in her voice "I..." Mormont began but she cut him: "Yes or no?"

"Khaleesi..." "Don't call me that. Did you tell him I was carrying Drogo's child?"  
That slight tremble was gone, replaced by anger. Dragon was awakened. 

"Yes..." Mormont barely uttered and that made Daenerys to stand up and walk down to him: "That wine merchant tried to poison me because of your information." 

"I stopped you from drinking his wine." Jorah defended himself. 

"Because you knew it was poisoned." Rage. Daenerys face was marked with rage now. 

"I suspected..." She hissed: "You betrayed me... From the first." 

Mormont went down on his knees: "Forgive me... I never meant... please Khaleesi forgive me." He was pleading now.

"You sold my secrets to the man who killed my father and stole my brother's throne... you want me to forgive you?"  
As she spoke, he spoke as well, but Daenerys paid no heed to his words: "I've protected you, fought for you, killed for you..."

"I have loved you..." he finally said. "Love..." she said gazing front and not at the kneeling man "...love...how can you say that to me?  
Any other man and I would have him executed but you, I do not want you in my city dead or alive."

Daenerys' face was now face of utter disgust, not wanting to look at him: "Go back to your masters in King's Landing and collect your pardon if you can." 

Jorah rose from his knees and made one step towards her which made both Barristan and Grey Worm to reach for their swords. "Daenerys..."

Queen raised her left hand and Jorah halted She looked at him with killing gaze: "Don't ever presume to touch me again or speak my name.  
You have until dusk to collect your things and leave this city. If you are found in Meereen past break of day, I'll have your head thrown intp Slaver's Bay." 

Jorah was shattered with her words, he seemed to be struggling to say something, but she said, almost in whisper: "Go... now." 

"Captain, captain!" Eliar Sand shouted across the courtyard of the Great Pyramid, if pyramids were to have courtyards to begin with.  
A four-feet high wall framed thirty yards of paved square on the northern side of the pyramid, where entry into ground level was. Jon turned around, surprised to see his Dornish serjeant. He was mounted on his sand steed, an animal he took across the Narrow Sea when still a colt. Though men of the company who rode on larger breeds sometimes mocked Eliar, climate of Slaver's Bay was much more agreeable with Dornish horse than with their mounts. Eliar was commander of company's scouts and oft during campaigns he would range for many miles ahead of the Beron's main. Three days before he took two more of his Dornishmen and rode southwards, to Yunkai. Both Beron and Jon knew of slavers retaking the yellow city. And of Second Sons being dispatched to reclaim the city for Daenerys Targaryen. As that was over a sennight ago, no word came from Yunkai yet. Beron, knowing that fast rider could cross the distance between two cities twice in five days, mentioned that to queen's advisors but they've shown little concern. _Daario Naharis is as that, he will report in his own time_ , both Jorah and Barristan said to Pentoshi Stark. He was not willing to let it pass so Eliar Sand, bastard from Saltshore rode out at midnight, three days ago. 

"Serjeant... I see you've returned from Yunkai..." Jon said "...what news do you bring?" 

"I myself am not sure if I bring any..." he said, dismounting.

"Were your eyes closed the whole time?" young captain asked. "No. Yet I still wonder what I saw..." Eliar answered.  
"Speak, man..." Jon said impatiently. 

"Harpy banner still waves over Yunkai. Beneath one with the broken sword. But no colors of silver queen. No dragon sigil anywhere." 

"Have you entered the city?"

"No. captain. We came near city gate the night before last, they were guarded by Yunkish soldiers, most of Second Sons are in the city, but some were camped outside, drinking and whoring. Few times they've mentioned Astapor."

"Astapor?" Jon wondered.

"Yes. Two of those shits were sharing the same pleasure slave and one said how he will not find arse as that in Astapor.  
That other said it's a long march to the red city and how he'll buy that girl so she could ride him when he is not riding his horse." 

"So, Second Sons are preparing to go to Astapor... I am not aware that Queen Daenerys has ordered them to go there. Or she did without telling it to her council. I intend to see her soon and I will ask her of this. You've done well, serjeant. Go and take your rest. And I am sure you can find yourself in Meereen a better free woman than any of those chained ones in Yunkai." 

Jon went into the pyramid and used the servant's steps which was the quickest way to move up and down within the tall building, these stairs were built steep and narrow withing the thick walls, but it lead them straight to the thirty-third level where Queen's council took place and were her apartments.

"I have come to see the Queen." Jon said to Missandei as he entered the council room where she was alone.

"Prince Aegon..." she gave him a warm smile "... I know you were to meet with Her Grace today, but she will not hold any more meetings or audiences today." 

Jon frowned: "It is not even midday yet. That is not usual for Daenerys." Missandei smiled politely, yet sad nothing. 

"Is she all right?" he asked next. 

"No, my prince. She is not." Jon's face changed that very moment: "What happened?"  
Young Naathi sighed: "It is not mine to tell." "Good. I will hear it from her then." 

"Prince, I am not allowed to let you..."  
"And you haven't let me. So, your loyalty to the Queen remains untarnished." Jon said as he walked to Daenerys' private chambers. Missandei bowed her head with content smile.

He entered the Queen's apartment which was not locked as it was custom during night and saw that she is not in the room where she dined, so he walked to her bedroom. She was seated on her bed, eyes looking at the distance. Still, Dany must have heard his footsteps as she said in irked voice: "I remember saying I do not want to be disturbed." 

"I am not here to disturb you." Jon said walking to her. She turned and looked at him.  
There were tears in her eyes and that made him to come to her even quicker: "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." she said. "Same as me, you're a poor liar." Jon said as he sat next to her. "I want to be alone." came from her next. 

"And I say that wish is not a very smart one." She shook her head, her gaze still absent. It pained him to see her like that. 

"What is it? I will not ask you for a third time, Dany."

A loud sigh escaped her: "I was betrayed. By someone who was with me from the very beginning. Someone who was my dearest friend.  
He witnessed all my victories and all my sufferings. And all that time he was a traitor." 

Jon knew right away of whom she spoke: "Ser Jorah Mormont..." 

"He spied for Robert Baratheon in exchange for royal pardon... and he got it from him..." her words echoed with hurt this betrayal brought her.

He placed his hand around Dany's waist and gently leaned her to himself, her head now rested on his shoulder.  
"Jorah Mormont wanted to return to Westeros. That made him to betray you." "He could have gone home with me." she said.

"He could. Mayhaps he even wanted to in the end... he got the pardon and still he stayed by your side."  
"It matters not. He betrayed me... one more betrayal. Whom can I trust?" she said bitterly.

"You can trust those that do not crave. For you. Or for something of yours. Or for things others promised them. Treason easily comes in such minds. But Ser Barristan is not so, nor is Missandei, nor is Grey Worm. You can trust them." 

"I trust them..." she said "...and... I trust you. All of last night I had troubling thoughts. You surely had even more of them. I am sorry... I am sorry that you had to live your whole life under bastard's name and not as you should have."

Jon let out a deep sigh: "I haven't slept either. I was angry. With everyone. With my father... who in truth was my uncle... with my true father... then thought of how his father murdered my mother's father came to my mind... as what Rhaegar and Lyanna did cursed them both and all around them... bringing ruin to House Targaryen and many deaths to House Stark... and that came to pass when I was born." 

"My brother loved your mother. And they had you. That was no curse, even if all else was..." she said, leaning closer to him "...I am glad that you were born. And sorry that we haven't lived as prince and princess in the Red Keep. Together, ever since babes." 

Chuckle escaped him: "I'm quite sure you'd mislike me as a boy." "I would not. Don't say that. I'd like you just as I like you now. And I'd trust you, same as I do now." Daenerys told him in soft voice.

"Have you ever trusted Daario Naharis." Jon asked. "No. Never. He also craves. For me and for what being with me would bring him." 

Dark-haired Targaryen nodded: "Good. For I fear he might have betrayed you as well." 

Daenerys lifted her head from Jon's shoulder: "What? I've sent him to retake Yunkai."  
"My scout returned merely an hour ago. Harpy still waves over Yunkai. And Daario's men speak of marching on Astapor." 

"Chaos rules in Astapor..." she said. "Indeed, it does. Which makes city ripe for taking and restoring the rule of masters there." 

"Have they bought Daario and Second Sons?" Dany asked.

"Possibly. He might have turned his cloak once again." 

She rose from the bed, her words ringing with disappointment: "I fear it could all fall apart. All that I have done here. Betrayal after betrayal... enemies within and without." 

"Then we should start planning who to beat them all." he said getting up. 

Daenerys turned to him, sadness in her eyes was replaced with resolve: "Yes. We should." 

"It will take Second Sons some time to cross the road between Yunkai and Astapor..." Jon said looking at the map of Slaver's Bay "...more so with if they are spending time in drinking and whoring." 

"I've freed all those poor girls and boys that were made bedslaves, masters have chained them again and Daario's men are using them for their sport. They all should be gelded." Daenerys said.

"You may do so once we defeat them. Unsullied have no man parts and are formidable soldiers. Mayhaps it would be an improvement for Second Sons as well." he grinned.

Dany's eyes were on the road between Meereen and Yunkai: "Should I send the Unsullied on hard march right away, they could catch Second Sons still at Yunkai."

"Or they could come before shut gate of Yunkai with them gone... Second Sons are cavalry. They move faster than any army on foot." Jon said, his finger wandering between three cities.

Then he straightened up: "Gods, truly I am a fool sometimes!" 

Daenerys looked at him: "What?" "Astapor... Dany... we must take Astapor before Daario does."

She frowned looking at him. "Meereen is yours. Yunkai is back in the hands of Wise Masters or Daario may have even claimed the city for himself. Astapor has sunk into disorder. If we're to take it before Second Sons come beneath its walls, Yunkai will be between two dragon cities."

Daenerys smiled: "Dragon cities... I like that." "Well, you are a dragon queen." Jon said not taking his eyes off the map:  
"What we have to solve now is how to take Astapor before two thousand men on horse does. Seems to me as an impossible task."

She gently took his hand in hers and moved it over the map to the part where port of Meereen was painted. He looked at her, not hiding how he enjoys her touch. "Daario took the Meereenese navy. Acting on his own to impress me. Now, that will work in our favor. I will send part of the Unsullied to Astapor by sea. And other freedmen willing to fight."

Jon nods smiling: "With favorable wind, should we sail tomorrow, we could reach Astapor at least half a day before the Second Sons."

"How many ships?" she asked. "Ten, not more." Jon answered. 

"Each ship can take six score of men at the most... twelve hundred Unsullied against two thousand sellswords on horseback." Dany noted.

"Beron told me a story of three thousand Unsullied breaking sixfold more of Dothraki at the gates of Qohor. Should the Second Sons ask for battle, odds are even."

"Do you think they will ask for battle?" she asked.  
"If they do, then their treason is without doubt. If not... I can't say what is in the mind of Daario Naharis. You know him better than I do." 

"I do not know him as good as you think." "He wasn't giving me flowers..." Jon looked at her.  
Her eyes smiled again: "You don't have to be jealous of him, Aegon. I've chosen you. I'd choose you over any man alive." 

"Jon... call me Jon." he said. "But that is not your true name..."  
"Aegon the Fifth was called Egg. So, if he were all right with being Egg for those close to him, I'm all right with being Jon for the woman I love." 

Her face had a glow which only happiness could make and she said: "And I am all right with being your Dany, my dragon prince." 

He stepped closer to her and in a heartbeat they were in tight embrace, kissing with fervor which took them both aback as they were breathing deeply when their lips parted.

Jon looked at her, for him there was nothing more beautiful in this world than Dany smiling.  
He took her in his arms again, almost lifting her off the floor. 

"Avy jorrāelan, Daenērys Jelmāzmo." he whispered in her ear.  
She held her hands tightly around his neck: "Avy jorrāelan tolī, Aegon Targārien."


	13. ZOKLAZALDRĪZES

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**ZOKLAZALDRĪZES**

_Wolf suffers no treason, dragon suffers no traitors..._

"You've been crying..." 

Jon woke up and saw Daenerys sitting in the bed, wiping tears from her face. Her long silver hair was falling loose down her bare back.  
Same as him she was naked, they have spent most of that evening in lovemaking. With first rays of dawn, Jon was to leave with the fleet of ten ships, headed for Astapor. He rose up right away and was now sitting next to her, his arms around her shoulders. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I am... it's nothing. Only a dream." 

"A nightmare, you mean..." 

"No... A dream. A beautiful dream." she said with a sigh. He kissed her cheeks and that made her smile:  
"No one ever wiped my tears with kisses before..."  
"I can't say they taste sweet... but..." Jon told her.

"Don't jape... I am sad."  
"How can a beautiful dream bring tears to your eyes?" he asked.  
She leaned her head on his chest: "Oh, Jon... it was dream of a life that could have been... if there was no Usurper's war. It seemed so true..." 

"Can you tell me what that dream was?"

Daenerys sighed once more: "You and I were man and wife...we had a home... and children... a beautiful boy with your face and my hair...  
and a girl, she was so lovely Jon... she was as me but with your eyes and dark hair... and I was with child, my belly was so swollen... we were so happy, all of us... I didn't want that dream to end. When I woke up, I cried."

"Why would dreaming of our children make you cry?" Jon asked.

"Because it will never be so..." she said with pain echoing in her voice.

Jon kissed her head, then said: "Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, you're now being... silly." 

She lifted her head the very next moment: "What?"

He nodded: "Silly... when you saw parchments sealed and signed telling of who I truly am, you had doubts of them being forgeries.  
But you take words of a Lhazareen witch as truth. And you make yourself miserable because of those words. That is silly." 

"I want to bear children, Jon, so much. And I am afraid that..." She never finished her words as he kissed her lovingly.  
Next Dany leaned her brow on his and said: "Mayhaps you're right. Mayhaps I am truly being silly." 

"There is only one way to prove that witch to be wrong... and that is to plant fruit in your garden..."  
She chuckled: "Fruit in my garden... you're using fancy words, Aegon Targaryen, for a sellsword..." 

"This sellsword received formal education... unlike some..." he grinned at her.  
"And still you haven't learned to speak properly, _muh luv._.." she lifted her eyebrow, grinning back at him.

"Did you just mock the way I speak?" he asked.  
"I did. It sounds awful." Daenerys said mockingly.  
"That asks for punishment... now... how to punish a bare queen..." Jon looked at her "...to tickle her, perhaps?" 

Dany's face changed: "You would not dare."  
"If you're not ticklish, then you need not to fear it..."  
She moved away: "Jon don't..." 

It was too late, he grabbed her sides and his fingers began to tickle her, soon she was on her back laughing: "Jon, stop it! Stop it!"  
That only make him to run his fingers down her naked body even more, she tried to free herself, but only ended lying in her belly,  
her legs kicking. Her uncontrollable laughter was very loud now, as were her words:  
"No... Jon... stop it... oh... you Northern brute! Stop it! Stop!" 

"Your Grace!" voice came from the other side of the bedchamber, making them both to look that way.  
Missandei stood on the door, in her nightgown. Jon pulled the sheet to cover himself while Daenerys gestured with her hand:  
"It's all right. Go back to sleep." Missandei bowed, smiling at her queen and left.  
Dany eyes met with Jon's, both were silent for a heartbeat and then she burst in laughter...

Next, they looked at each other with warmest gaze and Jon said: "I love you." She ran fingers through his hair: "And I love you."  
They kissed passionately and that kiss turned into lovemaking that joined their naked bodies once more. 

With first light of dawn, Jon was already dressed and kneeling at the bed side.  
Dany was covered with sheet and her eyes were sad again: "I could have gone with you to the port."

"No. You must rest. We shall say our farewell here." Jon told her. "I want you to swear to me, Aegon Targaryen."  
He nodded once. Dany's hand touched the scar on his head:  
"Swear to me that you will not act as a brave fool. And that you will come back to me. Unhurt." "I swear it, _muh luv._.." She frowned smiling.  
"My beautiful queen..." Jon said and kissed her. 

"I wish you good fortune, Jon. You thought well of taking Astapor before Second Sons do." Beron told him.

They walked down the quay, Unsullied and freedmen, once pit fighters, marched or run alongside them, rushing to the ships.  
Jon took four scores of his own men, most of them archers, trained by Beron himself. 

"I had a very good teacher. And I am grateful for all he taught me. And for that I am yet to learn from him." Jon replied.

"You were good at learning. Most of the time. Gone is that boy Ned sent me more than two years ago. I almost see glimpses of a man in you." Beron smiled. "Beron, I said some words..." 

His kinsman cut him: "Yes you did. And you got a fist in your mouth for it so no need to speak of it more. I want you to be who you are, Jon.  
Son of a man who was a good friend to me. Son of a woman I loved as a sister. Be who you were born to be. I will tell you all I know of your parents. But that knowledge will not help you to cease being Jon Snow and becoming Aegon Targaryen. That path you must take alone." 

"I am not alone on that path. Daenerys is with me..." Jon said smiling.

"I know you were with her last night. I came looking for you in your chambers, but you weren't there. Is she...?"

"We embraced each other as family. And as..." Jon paused.

"...man and woman who love each other. That is good, that is very good. She is still only a young girl and young girls want to be with noble men.   
You're one such." Beron said. 

"I thought you want me to be wary of her, you fear she might have the same taint..." Jon told him next.

Beron shrugged: "She might have it. Then again, you might have it as well. Aerys was your grandsire same as he was her father.  
Madness can skip generation or two..." 

"Seven hells, Beron... you don't truly think I could ever be as Mad King was? He was my father's father but still..."

"There's a saying that Targaryens can become either great men or mad men. Then again, saying is how there always must be a Stark in Winterfell and now there's none. Sayings are for weaklings that hide behind them when they have no sway over their destiny." Beron smiled looking how men of Company of the Wolf are embarking horses on Meereenese warships. 

"Beron, may I ask you a favor?" "You need not to ask. Say what sort of favor?"  
"Daenerys same as me knows little of our family. You knew her brother who is my father, you knew her mother, you can tell her of them. She wants to know."

"She might not take kindly what I will tell her of Aerys."  
Jon shook his head: "Tell her the truth. I think that there is more of my true father in her than it is of Mad King." 

"I will tell her then. Should she ask." Stark of Pentos said. Then he saw sailors on the masts of the ship Jon was to embark unfurling the sails.

"You better get on that deck, Jon... or they will leave for Astapor without you." "Aye, I should be going." 

Two kinsmen shook their hands. "When in battle..." Beron told him as Jon walked up the plank.

"...be swift, be smart." young Targaryen of Stark blood replied.

"We sail as a convoy, not in battle formation." Jon said to the captain of his ship, _Lady's Lace,_ named after a flower, which made him to chuckle after he first heard it. _What a stupid name for a warship,_ he thought, but kept it to himself. Instead he gave further commands: "And shall keep distance from the coast." 

"You wish us not to be seen..." ship's captain said. "Yes. People who we could meet in the battle are not fools. They'll have watches placed  
and scouts sent along the road. I don't want them to see us passing by." 

"It will be so. We shall take course which will keep us that far from the shore no eye can catch us, no matter how sharp." captain told him.

"When shall we reach Astapor?" Jon asked. "With this wind, on the night of third day, we shall lay anchor in their harbor." was the answer.

"Good. Let it be in the night. Before noon of fourth day, red city must be under dragon banner." 

Fire. Smoke. Screams. Some of people in horror, some of people lusting and drunk. Was horror caused by lust and wine, he could not tell.  
No man aboard ten ships which were sailing into port of Astapor, under thick veil of darkness, could not say. All could say those were the sounds of a city that descended into chaos. Eliar Sand, his serjeant, stood next to him and spat in the waves beneath the ship's prow:  
"This must be the foulest of all slaver cities. I've heard from freedmen in Meereen that every brick in Astapor was made so that blood  
of a slave was added with clay. Best bricks they say were those which had blood of a maiden." 

"You should not trust all you hear, Eliar. Yet, one thing is true. This is a foul place." Jon agreed.

His eyes watched the shadows in the dark. Pyramids. Towering on the shore of the bay in which city port was. Yet even the largest one was barely half the height of Great Pyramid of Meereen. Pyramids, same as in those in Meereen, were stepped with large and wide terraces. And all were built with the same brick. One of read coating. Not only pyramids, but streets and plazas and city walls, even fountains. Indeed, Astapor earned his other name. The red city. While people in the city were having another night of looting and burning, of murder and rape, boats were lowered from all ten ships and began carrying men ashore. Port was not even guarded. There were no ships anchored, what captain with even the smallest wit would call here. Slavery was gone and what came instead of it was soon known in all ports of this part of Essos. After first wave of men came ashore, boats were returning to take the second one. It was fourth hour after midnight and nearly half of men Jon came with to Astapor have landed.

"What's that smell?" Eliar whispered as they advanced from the harbor to large gate that lead into the city, above it he could see the winged shadow. Harpy of Astapor. Old and crumbling, captain of _Lady's Lace_ told him while they journeyed here, old and crumbling as the rest of the city walls. Jon did not believe to find watch towers of Astapor unmanned and yet they were. A broad, paved parapet walk lead from the harbor to the gate. Dornish serjeant was right, it reeked all along that way. As they rushed to the gate, it smelled more and more and even if it were still too dark, Jon saw shadows on the side of the walls that face the sea. A long line of shadows that seemed as tree line growing in perfect order, every ten or so feet.

"Lit the torch..." he said to one of his archers. In properly defended city, that would be fool's move. Here, on undefended harbor walls of Astapor, Jon wanted to see what caused that foul odor. Torch was soon lit and he walked closer to one of the shadows. Eliar let a whispered curse as flame revealed true nature of that shadow. It was a wooden post, shaped as letter T of Common Tongue, on which a man was nailed, most of his clothes were gone, but it was plain he was a noble once. He died, nailed to the wooden plank, with his manhood cut off. Next to him, a corpse of a woman, was rotting. Both of her hands were cut off, same as her breasts. She was also highborn, some of her adornments were still on her. On third pole was nailed a disemboweled man.

"Seven hells, captain..." Eliar said "...what happened here?"  
"Vengeance. But not just one. One that mob delivered or the butcher king who took rule over the mob. It makes no difference." Jon answered. 

"Butchery indeed... these corpses are rotting here for weeks... gods, how they smell..." Dornishman covered his face with his scarf "...this city must be filled with flies." 

Jon nodded. _Dead man's revenge_ , it was said, _corpses breed maggots, and maggots breed flies_. Burying or burning the dead was always wisest thing. Leaving them to rot in the open surely was not. Hid did not approve that Daenerys left nailed slavers that many days for flies and birds to feast upon them, but justice she delivered was still justice. What he saw here, was crime. 

"We're going to find that king Cleon or emperor or whatever he may be styling himself..." Jon said "...he will take down all these butchered men before I pass the sentence on him." 

Three hours before midday dragon banner was hoisted on the crumbling statue of the harpy, above the harbor gate. When light of the day came upon Astapor, Jon could tell that captain of Meereenese navy was not a liar. City walls were in decay. It seemed that lords of Astapor cared so little of their defenses, not manning the walls and letting those same red bricks that made city famous to slowly turn into dust, red dust which was everywhere and with even the slightest breeze it would fill the air. His black garments now had a thin layer of that reddish dust and it amused him how he was never more dressed as Targaryen than he is now. His hand went and touched the waist sash beneath his belt, violet eyes smiling at him came to his mind right away. He knew his face was softer now, but it turned dark and cold the very moment he saw four of the Unsullied dragging a man dressed in what seemed to be a silk nightgown more befitting to a woman than to a man. 

There were already two scores of prisoners rounded on that broad parapet walk which daylight revealed to be the Walk of Punishment, place where rulers of Astapor, the Good Masters, used to punish and execute slaves. 

"Captain..." Eliar told him, Jon knew how word of who he truly is spread among men of Company of the Wolf, but he forbade them to call him in any other way but by his rank "...captain, this is Cleon. The butcher." 

"There was never a man with a title more deserved." Jon replied and said the same to Cleon in High Valyrian:  
"Konīr iksin dōrī vala lēda iā brōzi tolī gūrogon."

Cleon did not understand, that was plain to Jon right away: "Ao ȳdra daor ȳdragon Valyrīha?" 

This man brought before Jon was as far from king as sparrow is from eagle. Short, fat man whose chest seemed more as teats of a woman.  
His head was shaved clean, only hair on his face was a triangle of dark-red dye on his chin.

"He does not speak High Valyrian nor the tongue of Sunset Kingdoms, my lord." one of the prisoners said in Common Tongue, with only slight accent. He was an older man, lean and not so well dressed as those around him.

"And you are?" young Targaryen prince asked.  
"I was a teacher and a scribe at the harbor, before silver queen liberated me and all other slaves in Astapor.  
I have served with the council she appointed and then with the king." 

"The king? You mean this sack of shit here before me?" Jon said.  
"Nyke dārys..." Cleon said in what sounded to Jon as worst High Valyrian he ever heard.

"Iksā iā nektogon irosh. You are a cutthroat." he said before hitting Cleon with his fist.  
"Scribe, ask him who that woman was, one with cut hands and breasts." then he said.

"My lord, she was one of priestesses in the temple of Graces. He lusted for her, she refused to bed him on her own will when he declared himself king. He accused her of witchcraft and cut pieces of her flesh while she was still living." 

Cleon grinned, even with blood tricking from his broken lip, it seemed that he grasped what old scribe was telling.  
Jon struck him again: "Do not look at me, you filth..." Then he turned to old man: "How many men did he killed?" 

"Scores, my lord. For every family of once slavers he claimed at least one life and he took their male children and gelded them as he wanted to make his own Unsullied army. And he let his men to rape all noble women and girls, no matter how old." 

"A butcher indeed." Jon said looking at the hideous creature that stood before him, held by two of the Unsullied.  
Next he said to Eliar Sand: "Fetch me the execution block. One surely must exist here, on the Walk of Punishment."

"My lord, beheading is punishment of your homeland, across the Narrow Sea. Here is not so oft." scribe told him. 

"Then a wooden crate. Anything so this beast here can lay his head down. One last time." dark-haired Targaryen hissed. 

Eliar soon produced a small wooden box and the Unsullied forced Cleon on his knees, not without him resisting.  
Jon drew the sword from his scabbard and placed it on his shoulder. He said with coldest voice he ever uttered:

"Isse se brōzi hen Daenērys hen Targārien Lentor, Mīrīno Dāria, nyke, Aegon hen Targārien Lentor se hen Stārke Lentor, Dārilaros hen Sīkuda Dārȳti, ivestragon ao morghūlis."  
( _In the name of Daenerys of House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, I, Aegon of House Targaryen and of House Stark, P_ _rince of the Seven Kingdoms, sentence you to die_.)

Head of self-proclaimed king of Astapor, once slave butcher and cook, Cleon, rolled on the stone pavement of Walk of Punishment.  
Few drops of blood sprayed on Jon's face, but he did not care.

"Captain, you should not have done it yourself..." Eliar said.  
"He who passes the sentence should swing the sword. That is the Northern way." Jon replied, then wiped his face with his sleeve. 

"What of these others?" Dornish serjeant asked, pointing at the other prisoners.  
"Scribe..." Jon said "...come here." "I am at your orders, prince." old man said.

"You will accompany my soldiers while they take testimonies of all that were wronged by this... butcher king and his men. All those that have taken life, shall lose theirs. All rapers shall be gelded. All that have raped and murdered shall first be gelded and then hanged. And those who give false testimony to accuse innocent man, will end on the rope as well. Serve me and my men well and you will earn your pay." Jon said with stern voice.

"It shall be so, Prince Aegon." scribe replied.  
"Good. Join the Unsullied. They know the city well, it was here they were made Unsullied."   
Then he turned to Eliar: "Take your Dornish riders and go to harbor, see that horses are disembarked and then ride out north,  
see how far from the Second Sons are. And tell the lieutenant of the archers to deploy them on the wall above the inland gates." 

Daenerys was standing on the balcony of council room, looking down at Meereen beneath her.

"Everyone looks happy enough from up here." Ser Barristan Selmy chuckled. 

"What?" she asked turning around. Today she donned white dress, with long broad sleeves that reached nearly to her knees. 

"I was thinking about all the times your brother made me go with him down from the Red Keep into the streets of King's Landing." 

"Why?" she asked. "He liked to walk among the people. He liked to sing to them." her Queensguard replied.

Daenerys face was one of pleasant surprise: "He sang to them?" "Yes." Barristan said.

She smiled even more walking back to the council room. She never expected to hear this of her brother she's never met.

"Rhaegar would pick a spot on the Hook or the Street of Seeds and then he'd sing, just as all the other minstrels." Selmy continued recalling memories she could tell were dear to him. "And what did you do?" she asked

. "I made sure no one killed him. And I collected the money." were his words to which Dany's eyes widened in disbelief. 

"What..." Ser Barristan shrugged "...he liked to see how much he could make." "He was good?" she asked, still not believing.

"He was very good. Viserys never told you?" old knight said. "He told me Rhaegar was good at killing people." Daenerys said sitting down.

"Rhaegar never liked killing. He loved singing." Ser Barristan told her. "And what did you do with the money?" was her next question.

"One time he gave it to the next minstrel down the street, one time he gave it to an orphanage in Flea Bottom... one time... we got horribly drunk." She laughed at that notion, of Crown Prince of Seven Kingdoms and sworn knight of Kingsguard getting drunk in some winesink in Flea Bottom. 

"Your Grace..." voice came from the back. Daenerys turned around: "Lord Beron... come, join us. Ser Barristan was just telling me of my brother Rhaegar..." "I've overheard some of it as I entered..." Beron said "...I remember once I almost arrested your brother." "What?" she chuckled. 

"He was playing his harp where no minstrels were allowed, he was dressed as a commoner, hood over his head.  
And Ser Barristan was nowhere near." 

"I was just around the corner... what a sight that was, your face when you saw him taking off his hood and me coming at you and your patrol with unsheathed sword." 

Beron smiled recalling it in his mind: "That was the day I've first met Rhaegar..."  
Then he sighed: "He would have been a great king." Selmy nodded: "He would." 

"I wish I had known him..." Daenerys said longingly. "He would have liked you. You are his true sister." Beron told her. She was pleased hearing this. Then she asked: "And... Jon... Aegon? Is he..." "Is he like Rhaegar? He is, in many ways. Same as he is like his mother." Stark answered her. 

Ser Barristan agreed: "Blood of the dragon and of the wolf... A singular man. Dragonwolf."  
Dany smiled and said the same word in High Valyrian: "Zoklazaldrīzes..." 

"Only he cannot sing, not even when he is drunk..." Beron chuckled "...while his father made his mother cry when he played his harp at Harrenhal." "He made her Queen of Love and Beauty then." Selmy added.

Daenerys face got more serious: "And thousands died for it..."  
Sellsword commander shook his head: "No. Not for Rhaegar and Lyanna. For things your father did."   
She looked at him: "My lord, he was my father and he was king..."  
"A Mad King. And Seven be thanked that you take after your mother and not after him."

"His enemies called him Mad King... the Usurper and his servants..." Daenerys countered. Beron looked at Ser Barristan, then at young queen:  
"Your Grace, if you have the will and time to hear me, I will tell you all I know of your father, your mother, Queen Rhaella, of Rhaegar...  
and no better man to tell you if I am twisting the truth to my liking than Lord Commander of your Queensguard here." 

Daenerys agreed: "I have time. And I want to learn the truth. No matter how unpleasant it is." 

Few hours have passed and she was now walking with Beron as he was about to leave the Great Pyramid. They stood in the throne room now.  
Ser Barristan was few paces behind them. She looked at him with approving gaze: "I thank you for all that you have said to me, my lord."

"I know that some things were not pleasant to hear. Aerys was your father, after all." 

"But I am not him. And I will strive never to be as him. I want to be more like my brother Rhaegar." 

"You already are. In many ways. And fate has joined you with him, of sort..." Beron said "...mayhaps future will return what past has stolen.  
A chance for dragons and for wolves." 

Her eyes glowed for she knew what he meant: "Do you have any word from Astapor?" 

"No, Your Grace. No messenger arrived yet. Oft I regret that Essos does not use ravens to carry messages as Seven Kingdoms." 

"Should any message arrive, inform me right away." 

He smiled at her: "His messenger will not come to me, but to you, Your Grace." 

Jon stepped on the walls, just above the gatehouse of the inland entrance in the red city.  
Few miles away, he could see a large cloud of dust. Men on horseback. Many men on horseback. He looked to his right and left.  
His longbowmen were ready and deployed along the battlements in a manner which ensured they will do most damage to the incoming enemy.  
Four scorpion ballistae were taken from the ships of Meereenese navy that ferried his men to Astapor and now were placed on the city walls.  
Rest of the walls were teeming with the Unsullied. He borrowed the far-eye from the capatain of _Lady's Lace_ and it has proven to be a useful tool as he could now see the first ranks of approaching cavalry. 

He saw Daario Naharis riding on his charger, an animal we surely stole from a stable of some Meereenese nobleman.  
At Daario's right rode a young boy, unmistakably of Lys, for he had Valyrian features. He was holding a banner. 

A black cloth with red three-headed dragon. Jon grinned seeing it... _What trick are you playing now, gambler...?_


	14. GAMBLERS

_Astapor, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**GAMBLERS**

_He has a sellsword's conscience, That is to say, none at all._

"Two cities are more than one..."

And not even a dragon queen will smirk at such gift. She smirked at everything else he gifted her thus far. Heads of his captains, the Second Sons, flowers of Slaver's Bay, fleet of Meereen. Daenerys Targaryen was hard to impress.

That is what he thought. Ever since he has met her. He thought that until he had to bear witness how young, baseborn Westerosi captain who offered nothing to silver queen yet open disobedience is stealing her from him. 

It surprised him. He had thousands of women ever since the day he learned how that piece of flesh dangling between his legs is not only for taking a piss. He liked bedding women. He lied down with women from Summer Isles to Yi Ti, from Lys to Lorath. Yet he shunned whores, for his mother was one and even more he shunned bedslaves. They were no challenge to him. Free women, be it of smallfolk or noble born, were source of pleasure, of conquest. 

Daario Naharis liked to conquer. To seduce, to get sway over. He was poison to women. And he liked being one.

When he entered the pavilion tent of Daenerys Targaryen and saw her silver hair and her curves beneath the blue dress, he knew what his next conquest will be. Bedding a queen, bedding the last scion of Targaryen dragonlords, that was true conquest. Not only bedding, but taking place at her side. Young, unwed, having that inhuman Valyrian beauty one they called both Khaleesi and Mother of Dragons, to gain her trust, to get in her bed and into her head, that would be a proper victory. He tried, she resisted. Daario Naharis had a keen eye for men as well. He could tell their intentions. Old knight that was her Queensguard wanted only to serve her as he did her family before her. Commander of eunuch soldiers wanted the same. That other Westerosi knight, one they called Jorah the Andal, he looked at her with different eyes. Same as he looked at men who would approach her with different eyes. Though it would be more befitting had he watched over her as father does over his nubile daughter, eyes of Jorah Mormont told another tale. He wanted Daenerys Stormborn for himself. In his gaze was jealousy, the same one would find when older man weds young girl and knows that she desires young, firm male bodies that do not tire after one fuck. He also saw how she keeps Jorah at what some would say arm's length and how that made him both desperate and filled with enmity to all others around his queen. 

He has found that even amusing. It did not last long, his amusement. Captain of Company of the Wolf took that amusement away. Young, tall, of raven hair and grey eyes, skin that was pale before it tanned under Essosi sun. He was cold toward Daenerys Stormborn at first, it seemed to Daario how two mislike each other. He should have known better, he came to see that when it was too late. That bastard boy slew champion of Meereen, a kill he wished to be his gift to the dragon queen. Since that day, her eyes saw only Jon Snow. Daario suddenly came to understand how Jorah Mormont must feel all this time. 

"It will not last. She will hump that bastard well and then she would turn to a real man." he said to himself as he took the Second Sons down the road to Yunkai. Wise Masters had no other but to yield when city is taken and all the slaves within the walls of yellow city were freed. Most followed their Mhysa to Meereen, still many stayed behind as now free men. That freedom was indeed short lived. Last soldier of Breaker of Chains was not more than five miles north of Yunkai when Wise Masters began their retake of power. It took them only a few days to reenslave all those that Daenerys freed. Yunkish slavers enjoyed their victory. Which was short lived as well. 

When Second Sons arrived before the city gates, Wise Masters knowing that they cannot withstand another siege, not with slaves that have tasted freedom, no matter how briefly. They decided it was wiser to negotiate. 

Grazdan mo Eraz came to parlay. Lean man of dark hair and hard features did not hide his wealth, which grew on sweat and toil of men, women and children he owned, for his tokar was adorned with golden Myrish lace.

"You had contract with us, Daario Naharis, and you have broken that contract. Now you serve the silver w... queen. She must be paying you well. Is it gold? Silver? Promise of lands, titles and castles if she were to take back her father's throne? Or does she pay your loyalty and services with her cunt?" Grazdan grinned at him.

"Careful, Grazdan, you are an envoy, but it gives you only so much shield."

Yunkish nobleman kept grinning: "Have I said something that is untrue? It is known she was wife of a Dothraki khal, hoping her riding him will bring her him riding across the Narrow Sea."

"Second warning, Grazdan, you will not insult my queen with those words."

"She has sent you here to slaughter us, so why should I extend courtesy to my murderer. For that is what she has sent you and your sellswords here. Am I going to die on a wooden post as masters of Meereen have?" 

"No. You will not. There is a choice. To live in her new world or to die in your old one." Grazdan laughed: "To live as what? A mason? A cobbler? Tailor perhaps? I am of long line of masters, Daario Naharis. There is nothing I want to be than master."

"And I want to fuck a woman with four teats and two twats... it seems none of us will get what we want." Daario grinned at him.  
"Do not mock me, sellsword. My words are true." Grazdan hissed.

"I know they are. I have a proposal for you which will be to your liking. You shall remain master in all but name, you will have men working for you, slaves in all but name." Grazdan looked at him: "I have no time for jests or follies."

"Is Pentos a jest? They have no masters or slaves and yet they do. And Pentos is now richer than Yunkai." leader of the Second Sons still grinned. "Pentos is not richer than Yunkai..." envoy replied.

"Time for you to see the world, Grazdan, world beyond your bedslave's arse." Daario smirked.

"In Pentos, slaves... servants that is... are paid. You want me to pay what I now own." Grazdan was disgusted.

"No, in Pentos servants are indebted for life to their masters. It's slavery under cloak. And Yunkai will not get better terms than what I am offering to you." 

"What your queen is offering us... you mean..." Grazdan's disgust was even greater.

"What I am offering. I, Daario Naharis. She knows nothing of these terms. She wants only for slaves of Yunkai to be free. I am granting her wish. And I am granting yours to remain a master, of sorts." 

"Pentos was made to abandon slaver ways by the Braavosi... they were defeated..." Yunkish nobleman said, but he cut him: "As is Yunkai. You are defeated. Admit it before slave revolt ends up with you gelded and fed with your own cock."

"And should we agree to these terms, what then? There is a butcher ruling as king in Astapor, he slaughtered the masters there, he now threatens Yunkai." Grazdan told him.

"Yunkai will enjoy protection of the Second Sons. Yet only should you agree to these terms." Daario answered, grin as glued to his face.

"You will fight that false king of Astapor for us? Why should Wise Masters trust you? You've betrayed us once before." Grazdan now grinned as well.

"That will not happen now. I want to conquer Astapor." Daario said.  
"For Daenerys Targaryen? Tell me, is hair on her cunt silver as well? Or gold? Only those two colors can make you so lustful, Daario Naharis."

"I want to conquer Astapor for myself. And then, having two cities under my sway... I will get her silver, same as I will get your gold. Taking Astapor will not come for free."

"I assume you expect us take the collars off our slaves, to please the dragon queen." Grazdan said as he was uttering the foulest of curses.

"There are many ways to collar a man, Grazdan mo Eraz. I give you two hours to convey my terms to other Wise Masters and to return with an answer." "Will that Targaryen girl vouch for these terms?" 

"I vouch for these terms. They are mine. Not hers." Naharis said and dismissed the Yunkish envoy. 

Two hours later, Grazdan returned with an answer. Wise Masters accepted his terms. Gate of the yellow city was open and Second Sons rode in. Shortly after, their banner was raised along with one of the harpy. Daario was pleased. Yunkai was taken.

Slavery will soon be gone, replaced with barely better way in which poor serve the rich. Then he will go to Astapor. To take it. For himself.

If Yunkai and Astapor do not get Breaker of Chains to open her arms and her legs for him, what will... she will have no choice. Wise Masters of Yunkai accepted his terms, he planned to do the same with Good Masters of Astapor.

Two of three cities of Slaver's Bay will be loyal to him, not to Daenerys Targaryen. And she cannot rule over whole of Slaver's Bay having only Meereen, nor can she afford enmity with both yellow and red city.

Daario Naharis was pleased. He will never be king. Yet he will have sway over silver queen as no perfumed king of hers will ever have. 

He planned his men to rest in Yunkai for three days. Was it more than it was needed, mayhaps it was, still nothing ensures the content loyalty of sellswords more than wine, gold and whores. Three days turned into six. Second Sons rode out on the morning of seventh day since his parlay with Grazdan.

Dawn of eleventh day brought Astapor before them. Red city was brought down to its lowest, Daenerys left council of three learned men to rule the city, a healer, a scholar and a priest. Brief was their rule as once slave, named Cleon, who served as butcher and cook in the household of Grazdan mo Ullhor, one of Good Masters. "Another cunt named Grazdan..." he said to himself. Nobles of Slaver's Bay oft did name their sons after Grazdan the Great, man who founded of Old Ghis. Most of these Grazdans were not even worth a toenail of their legendary namesake, obese, soft, perfumed men that never wielded any sort of weapon in their lives, save fork and spoon. He detested Ghiscari highborn, men and women alike. Not once did his manhood stiffen at wives or daughters of any sort of masters, be it good, wise or great. 

"I want this butcher to soil his smallclothes." Daario said to one of his younger soldiers, boy of five and ten namedays from Lys. He was of gentle features and not very tall, if his hair fell longer than his shoulders one could take him for a girl from afar. Daario decided to use that as a ruse. 

"You shall ride by my side, in finest garment I can find for you. And you will carry a dragon banner. That Astapori butcher will think that Mother of Dragons herself has come to punish him. Then you will remove yourself before they see you and I will parlay with that idiot. He'll be grateful to keep head on his shoulders. Or not to be burned alive." 

"Kostā daor!" came the answer from the gatehouse of Astapor when Daario rode before it and asked to enter the city.

Walls were guarded by the Unsullied. No banner of any sort was displayed over inland gate of Meereen.

He knew of Cleon making his own sort of eunuch foot soldiers, everyone knew it will be many moons before they began to resemble an army. Yet, these he saw on the walls were an army. Two hundred or more. 

"Nyke ȳdragon syt Dāria Daenerys hen Targārio Lentor!" he shouted at them so they could know for whom he speaks.

"Gaomā daor!" was the next answer. ( _You do not!_ ) 

"Addemmagon bisa ánghowa ao kessa!" he yelled back letting them know how this insult will be paid. 

"You may not enter Astapor, Daario Naharis. Not you, not any of your sellswords." man told him, man of Westeros with an accent which betrayed him right away. Dornish.

"Astapor must raise its gates and let the army of Queen Daenerys Targaryen to enter, to reclaim it in her name." he said.

"Astapor has been claimed. By Prince Aegon Targaryen and he will not suffer you inside the city walls." Dornishman replied. ,

"Claimed by whom?" Daario blurted out.

"Are you deaf? I shan't tell you for the second time. Astapor is a dragon city now, Daario Naharis. You're not needed here." 

"When I take this city, I will cut your tongue myself, goat fucker." he threatened.  
"I prefer your mother over any goat, she even smells more." Dornishman answered.

"Well done, Eliar..." Jon said as he listened, hidden in the watch tower "...that will give him something to ponder about. He still does not know who has taken the city nor whose army stands on the walls." 

"Was it wise to affront him so, Jon?" Sand asked. "I am not letting that snake into the city. Gods know what he plans and intends. He has more men and once they enter Astapor they could act as friends. And then slaughter us in our sleep. That man killed his captains for their opinions on how to deal with Queen Daenerys differed. We're safer with him camped outside."

"You should have seen his face when he heard that Astapor was claimed by you, Jon. I mean by Prince Aegon... Does Daario Naharis know who you truly are?" Dark-haired Targaryen shook his head: "He was not in Meereen when I've learned the truth." 

Eliar smirked: "My forebearers fought yours when Young Dragon came to take Dorne.  
One Stark lordling died at the walls of Sunspear, I was told so."  
"I hope you will not hold that against me." Jon said.

"And my mother's cousin fell at Trident, fighting for your sire." Eliar said next.  
"And I hope you will not hod that against me either." 

"No, I like you better now than when you were a Snow. I can suffer humorless Targaryen, but not as humorless bastard. And you were humorless as Snow. Are all Northerners so grim?" 

Jon shrugged: "I guess you'd find most of Northerners grim..."  
"It is for cold, captain. All shrivels in the cold, from man's cock to his heart. But in the warmth of Dorne... we laugh, we drink, we fuck and we fight. We live." 

"I was born in the Red Mountains." he said to Eliar.

"Truly?? Seven hells, that almost makes you a Dornishman.... Well, you may lack humor, but you fight as one of us. And this what you did to Naharis, that is Dornish way. Let him bake in the sun, outside of the city." 

Prince of House Targaryen laughed: "Aye, let him bake. We're well provisioned, we have water and shade of thick walls and pyramids. He came here hoping to take the city swiftly. Now, he will either scurry back to Yunkai or lay a siege, one he did not plan." 

"Neither did we. He could try to storm the city or to capture the port." Eliar warned. Jon's eyes narrowed: "He is free to try."  
"You hate this man, I can tell." Eliar said. 

"Hate? I loathe his kind. False and treacherous, without shred of honor, lustful... one cannot trust such men. They are able to bed a woman in the evening and slit her throat in the morning." Jon told him.

"Him and many other sellswords..." Dornish rider said. 

"Many but not all. Our company neither had nor ever suffered having such men" young captain replied. 

"No, lord Beron made sure of it. That is why there's only three hundred of us." 

"Aye, but any highborn or rich man of Essos is safe to leave his maiden daughter in her nameday suit in the midst of our company and she will not be tarnished." 

"One can't say that for Second Sons." 

"No, one cannot." Jon agreed. "Let them bake." Eliar grinned.

"Let them bake." his captain repeated. 

Daario wondered many hours after he had that talk at the gates of Astapor. Second Sons have made the camp, stretching from one end of the inland walls of the city to the other and it all seemed as siege. Though it was not. At least not yet. Not before commander of Second Sons reevaluates current state of affairs. Which was curious, to say the least.  
Some drunk Astapori beggars he caught outside the gates, told him how an army came with the ships, under dragon banner, took the city, their leader beheaded Cleon and hanged all his helpers, some lost their manhood before that. He was not the man who would trust a beggar or a drunk on any other day. That day he trusted. Drunks told him the same as the Dornishman from the walls - a man who called himself Aegon Targaryen took the city. 

Aegon Targaryen... 

Daario trusted how Daenerys dispatched a small fleet of ships, ships he captured for her, from Meereen to Astapor, unbeknownst to him.  
First thought that came to him was how someone sent a word to her of his dealings with the Yunkish. Then, he recalled how she did not order him to take Astapor. She decided to do it herself.

"Who in all the hells there are is Aegon Targaryen?" he cursed as he wandered around the camp, pondering his next move. 

He summoned his best riders and gave him orders.  
One was to ride to Yunkai, to secure provisions for the prolonged siege are delivered, while other was given a far heavier task.  
That one was to go to Meereen, to face the queen and report her of army she sent to make order in the red city went renegade, no longer do they answer to anyone, save this man who claimed to be one of the dragon blood. 

"When you face Queen Daenerys, tell her how her name is being insulted from those that now hold the walls of Astapor. And that Daario Naharis and the Second Sons will take the city in that name. As he did Yunkai."

If she were to trust him, that would do greatly for him. If not, losing head of one sellsword is a very low price to pay.  
Daario Naharis was not to charge at the walls of Astapor. He knew that those manning it, were well provisioned. But, people of the city were not. When chaos that emptied granaries and polluted many of water wells is replaced with siege, hunger and thirst will follow and he will have two very confident allies within the city.

"When my men told me they have caught a spy in the port, I thought he'd be one serving certain Tyroshi sellsword that camps outside the city walls, almost a sennight now. I never hoped it will be Robert Baratheon's informer." 

Jon placed his command at the Plaza of Pride. He was advised to do so by his Astapori allies, those who welcomed the coming of silver queen's soldiers. He did not like this square. At its very middle, stood a fountain, made of red bricks as the rest of the city. Twenty feet tall harpy made of bronze adorned the fountain. Face of a woman with eyes and pointed teeth made of ivory stared at him. Her teats were used for yellow coated, smelly water to pour out from them, adding even more to statues monstrosity. Parts of the statue were deformed, melted down. Those were scars made that day when Daenerys Stormborn ended slavery in Astapor. 

He misliked this place even if it were the most appropriate one for commander of city defenses. It was fairly near the port, largest pyramid was merely few dozen yards away and once barracks of the Unsullied were half a mile northwards. He needed not to climb to the very top of the pyramd, even from its lowest terrace he could see the encampment of Second Sons, going in semi-circle around the city. Jon saw only a dozen or so tents on the southern bank of Worm river. That spoke how Daario has no intent to threaten the city harbor. Or it spoke the very opposite. A spy being caught on one of the quays made Jon to believe that Second Sons will try to burn his ships or take sway over the port, cutting his only way of supply.

When he saw the face of the prisoner, Jon was truly surprised. A man, whose clothes spoke of him sleeping in the open for many days and face needed washing, could not be mistaken for someone else. 

"Jorah the Andal..." Jon said "...yet even that is a lie. You're not Andal, no more than I am. What evil brings you to Astapor, Ser?"

Exiled knight, once heir of Bear Island did not answer, he stood silently before Jon who was sitting at the trestle table beneath the canvas shade. That earned Jorah a sword hilt landing between his ribs. One of Jon's guard did not find his silence amusing, it made Jorah to grunt and nearly fall on the ground as his hands were tied behind his back: "Answer the question, old cunt!" man of Company of the Wolf barked at Mormont.

Jorah killed the man with his gaze before answering: "I wanted to find a ship that will take me to Volantis."  
"To Volantis..." Jon wondered "... are you returning to Westeros? To collect your pardon? That may or may not be a wise decision, Ser." 

"Of what concern is that to you?" Mormont said.  
"None, Ser, yet you've lived so far. It would be a true pity to lose your head by those whom you served many years." 

"I have served her. Only her." Jorah looked at him, his eyes marked with pride and defiance.

"You have betrayed her. From the first... those were her words, right?" Jon looked at him with a glint.

"You do not know, how could you... I was here, right here when she got her army and defeated the masters of Astapor... you can never understand what she is to me... She..." 

"She is my blood!" Jon said loudly "And you wronged her. If it weren't her order for you to live in banishment, I would hang you same as I have hanged other criminals of Astapor." 

"Your blood... That very day she banished me I have heard this story of you, _Aegon Targaryen_... a hidden son of Last Dragon and lady Lyanna, revealed only when Daenerys became a powerful queen." Jorah said.

"Careful, Ser... careful, I had not known my parents, but I will not suffer an exiled slaver to speak ill of them.  
Daenerys gifted you your life, I have not. And her gifting does not bind me as much as you'd like." 

"I have not insulted the dead, Jon Snow. I only do not trust you to be who you say you are." Jorah said calmly.  
"What you believe or not means nothing to me, Ser Jorah. What matters is why Volantis?" Jon replied with cold voice.

"I was banished from Slaver's Bay. I was exiled from Westeros and as you've said, that pardon is of little value now when King Robert is dead.  
In Volantis I'd sell my sword again." 

Jon nodded: "That is the best path for you, Ser." Jorah shook his head: "Best path for me is to serve Mother of Dragons."   
"You have gone astray from that path..." Jon told him.

"I have not... Yes, I have been informing the Red Keep of her... long time ago. Since then, I was nothing but loyal to her." Mormont defended himself.

"You have a strange notion of loyalty, Ser." Jon said, looking straight at him. 

"If I am not to be executed, what fate you plan for me, captain? I wish to leave Slaver's Bay." 

"I thought you wish to serve your queen." were Jon's next words.  
"You have me as prisoner and in ropes before you, young man, but do not mock me." Jorah answered, greatly irked.

"I am not mocking you, Ser. In truth, there is a way you can serve your queen still." Jon said, now leaning in his chair.  
His prisoner frowned at him, so he continued to talk: "I need you to write a letter. To your once employer in King's Landing." 


	15. JON

_Astapor, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**JON**

_Curiosities on the far side of the world are no threat to us._

"You want me to write a letter... to Varys?" Jorah looked at him, not trying to hide his disbelief.

"If that is the name of a man you've been selling information about Daenerys... yes." he replied calmly.

"Why? What is there to..." 

"Ser Jorah, who sent that royal pardon to Meereen? Almost two years have passed since king who gave you this pardon has died..." 

"Tywin Lannister. There is no shred of doubt it was him." Mormont replied with anger painting his voice.

"Aye... Beron told me a lot of him. Old lion. He had my brother, his wife, his mother and scores of Northerners killed at Red Wedding. It was him who arranged that betrayal. It was him who had my father's other children killed nine and ten years ago. And now his gaze is at Daenerys.  
He is a dangerous man, right?"

"He is. Most dangerous to those he finds to be dangerous to him, no matter if that was truth or they only seem to be so." Jorah confirmed.

"Good. We're in agreement then. I want his gaze to avert from Daenerys and Slaver's Bay. For that, you shall write a letter. One that will please lord Tywin greatly." Jon said, leaning in his chair.

"What will that letter say?" Mormont asked, measuring the dark-haired young man who was sitting before him.

"You will inform this...Varys... of your banishment from the service of Queen Daenerys, of course. He will learn of it anyway. I trust he has those that work for him in Meereen, since old pardon has found way to the Great Pyramid. It is better that he learns of it from you, his once servant."

"I was never his servant." Jorah sound offended now. Jon shrugged: "I care not of how what you were doing is called. You will write him how Daenerys Targaryen has found out of your treason and banished you from Meereen. Then you will inform this spymaster of me." 

"Of you?" Jorah wondered.

"Of me..." Jon said with certainty "...you will write how you have joined with a Targaryen pretender, who emerged from the ranks of sellswords and is disputing Daenerys' claim. And you will write how that man is surely false. It should not be hard for you to do so, you do not trust me to be who I am. That much I've been told." 

"I do not trust you to be the son of Rhaegar Targaryen. You may be son of Lyanna Stark, though. You have all the Stark traits..." Jorah said, defiantly. That made Jon to straighten up in his chair:

"Careful, Ser, careful. I have not known my mother, but you will not insult her to my face. Better men than you have confirmed of who I am,  
so what you think is of no true worth to me. Yet, as I've said, when you write those thoughts down, they will be true."

"What do you think to gain with this? Varys is no fool, Tywin even less... They are men seasoned in plots and schemes, men who brought ruin to both Robb Stark and Stannis Baratheon... A green boy as you..."

Jon gave him a killing gaze: "You tend to forget yourself, Ser. Aye, I am a young man, they have schemed for more days than I've drawn breath. Still, I have learned from a man who lived among them. And I am certain that they will welcome the news of Daenerys Targaryen having to fight in Slaver's Bay and not advancing to the west. You shall write to that eunuch how this false Targaryen has taken Astapor, how Astapor is besieged by those loyal to Daenerys and how this pretender can be bought for dozen or so crates of gold." 

Jorah chuckled: "You expect from Tywin Lannister to send you gold? You are an audacious young man. Starks are not as that..."

"I am not a Stark..." Jon told him coldly "...but yes...he might send a crate or two. If you were Tywin Lannister would you not back the one who is working in your favor? I am sure he'll be pleased to know how she now has to fight not only slavers but one who denies her birthright. He does not need to move a finger and his enemies will fight among themselves. For that reason he's sent that pardon of yours to Meereen, did he not?"

"He did..." Jorah nodded bitterly. "So, is it so _audacious_ to think how Tywin would feed the discord between his foes with gold?" Jon asked. 

Mormont shook his head: "Mayhaps it is not. Yet I am not sure should I be helping you in this or not..."

"You will be helping yourself, Jorah the Andal. By helping me, you're helping Daenerys. That might not be enough for her to forgive you, but if naught Company of the Wolf needs a seasoned warrior... after all, you've been banished from Meereen only. You can serve your queen here or in Yunkai." Jon said with even tone.

Jorah looked at him: "Mayhaps you are of dragon blood. You have their... bearing."

Jon gave him a look, before asking: "You hoped that she will be with you in the end, am I right? When her efforts to return to Westeros fail, when she has lost all but her life, you hoped that she will be with you, a broken young woman in need of a shelter and a.. father? Husband? Both? That is why you spied on her... Yet I wish to know what changed? When did it change? And why? When young Targaryen girl you wanted to be yours became the Queen you were ready to die for?" 

Mormont frowned at him, before sighing: "Beron Stark left his mark on you, that is certain..." His gaze briefly went down, then he said:  
"I know when it changed for me. It will change for you as well... You still haven't seen the real Daenerys Stormborn. You will know when that happens, when you will truly believe in her. You will know. After that, nothing else will matter. Only her."

"Write that lefter, Jorah the Andal." Jon said in a slightly warmer tone.

"Lady Gamassa Garduz, lord Aznor mo Reshn and... Moznil ask to be received." Eliar told him the next day while they were breaking fast. 

"People of Astapor seem to be solving their matters early in the morning..." Jon noted. 

"As do we in Dorne. Morning or evening. Not while the sun is high in the sky. Heat is not a friend of hard thinking nor hard work. You folk in the North, you must move around all day or your balls will froze. But men of the south, we must rest oft. Heat can kill you same as cold, captain." Jon chuckled: "Sounds more as an excuse to lie down in shade doing nothing... What grievance do these three have?" 

"None or many... yet they claim they're here to offer their services." serjeant replied. "What language they speak?"  
"That Aznor speaks Common Tongue rather good. Other two are more of a silent kind."

Gamassa same as Aznor were as Ghiscari as one can be, amber skinned with curly hair of reddish tones. They seemed as brother and sister to him at first, yet they weren't. Both were highborn, that was plain, even if Aznor did not come in tokar. Moznil was not Ghiscari, mayhaps of Lhazar or further inland and his garment spoke of once slave.

"Dārilaros Aēgon, kirimvose īlot urnere." Aznor thanked Jon for receiving them and then spoke in Common Tongue which he has learned well: "Lady Gamassa, Moznil and I asked for this audience, to meet the new ruler of Astapor."

Jon nodded out of courtesy: "I am not the new ruler of Astapor. Council that was appointed by Queen Daenerys was killed by Cleon. I have executed that criminal. This city now has to find new rulers."

"That is one of the reasons we wanted to see you, Prince Aegon..." Aznor told him "...my father was one of three councilors the silver queen left to guide us, he was a healer. And lady Gamassa's husband, a scholar." 

"I am sorry for your losses..." Jon said "...I hope that you find some comfort in knowing that justice was done upon those who murdered them. Cleon's head rots on a spike." 

"For that we are both thankful, prince, but it is Astapor that needs justice now. And peace. Yet we see tents of besieging army outside.  
And lot of uncertainty within our walls." Aznor said next.

"What uncertainty is that, my lord?" Jon asked.  
"You have come here in the name of Daenerys Stormborn, you even share her blood. And the army outside claim to march in her name as well. That is confusing to the people of Astapor."

He saw other two nodding which told Jon they could understand some of Common Tongue or at least grasp the meaning of some words. "Lord Aznor, only one army within miles is of Daenerys Stormborn. That is the one I command. And you may rest assured that I haven't come here with all these men to leave Astapor sunk into chaos again." Jon told him.

"Still, you must allow us to be a bit befuddled how two hosts that are about to cross swords claim to fight for the same queen. Then, there is issue of food and water, prince. If this siege were to last for more weeks or moon.. or more... our granaries were emptied by Cleon and his men, most of it ending stockpiled in their homes." 

Jon said resolutely: "We can remedy that. All his men are known and those who are not soon will be. Then we shall pay visit to their homes and took back what they have stolen from the people of Astapor."

"And then, my lord? When our granaries are emptied? When there is no more meat or fruit or bread? With thousands starving?" nobleman asked.

"This siege will not last that long, lord Aznor."  
"And what if it does? Rumors are Yunkai is now again of the silver queen and Yunkai stands with these... Second Sons." Aznor countered.

"Rumors are... rumors. And Astapor has backing of the Mother of Dragons." Jon said. "  
"Zaldrīzoti Muñā Mīrīn issa." Gamassa spoke for the first time. ( _Mother of Dragons is in Meereen)_

"Ao paktot issi... You're right..." he told her "...she will help you nonetheless."  
"Valā hen Mīrīn Astaprot jemēbagon kosis daor." Gamassa said dryly." 

Jon frowned: "One can't rule Astapor from Meereen... perhaps. Yet, hers and mine forefathers have ruled an entire continent for centuries." "Kesor Vēzrunno Dārȳti issiri daor." woman said.

"Prince, I agree with lady Gamassa. This is not the Sunset Kingdoms. Astapor is Astapor, Meereen is Meereen." Aznor added. 

"And both have to learn how to live without slavery..." Jon told them "...in that they're are much alike. I assume you came to me with certain proposals? Not only your fears and doubts." 

"We have." Aznor said upon exchanging gazes with Gamassa and Moznil.  
"Then do not be hesitant in saying them." dark-haired Targaryen told him. 

"Prince, reappoint the council. This city is in dire need of healing. Now, it it still split in many parts, some even hope that sellswords which besiege the city will bring peace of the silver queen. You're a foreigner, your soldiers are foreigners, your Unsullied have not so long ago killed many of the nobles of Astapor, men and women alike. Without council, you shall not have the ears of this city." 

"All right. And once the council is named, what then?" Jon asked.  
"Allow us to trade with Tolos." Aznor said. "Sindigon se lioragon lēda Tolos." added Moznil.

"What sort of trade?" "Tolosi food for... slaves." nobleman said reluctantly.

Jon shook his head: "That cannot be. You shall get your food from Meereen. And you cannot trade with what you do not have. There are no more slaves in Astapor."

Aznor nodded: "Yes, that is true. But, many that were slaves not so long ago indeed have hoped to go to Tolos."

"To live there as slaves? That was their hope?" Jon asked.

Moznil spoke to him in Astapori Low Valyrian: "Not all slaves toil in the field or in a quarry, some manage households, some are teachers, scribes... between certainty in Tolos and uncertainty in Astapor, they will choose Tolos." 

"You speak for these men?" Jon asked him.  
"I do, dragon prince. My brother is one of those men. He wishes to cross the sea and serve his masters in Tolos. He is the finest tailor in Astapor."

"And how will they get to Tolos, lord Aznor?" he asked the nobleman.

"You came with ships. Tolos is on the other side of Slaver's Bay. Closer than Meereen is. Use those ships to ferry men that wish to be owned there and return with food for Astapor." 

Jon looked at him with wide eyes: "You have just proposed that I should take part in slave trade. Ships are under my banner. Under Queen's banner." Aznor answered: "I have proposed you what is best for the red city." 

Gamassa was nodding as well, Jon was now certain she understands the language of Westeros with ease.  
"Astapor dohaerilā kesā, iā pōnto kessa daor. Se iderennon iksis aōhon." ( _Astapor will serve you. Or not. The choice is yours._ )

"Is noble lady threatening me?" Jon asked in Common Tongue. She smiled and shook her head: "Nyke gīmēdetan ao." ( _I warned you._ )  
He nodded: "I shall take your warning into consideration." 

He remained silent for a while, exchanging glances with the three, then he said: "You will name a new council of Astapor.  
Council of seven, not of three. Two once masters, two once slaves, two free men who never owned a slave and a priest."

"Seven is the number of your gods..." Aznor noted. "That is the number of Andal gods. Not mine." Jon answered.  
"What of trade with Tolos, prince?" came the next question.

"That decision asks time, lord Aznor. It is not to be brought hastily. We are done for now." he gestured to the three that meeting is over. 

"I gather it did not go well, with them three..." Eliar said.

"You're a very observant man, as befits a scout..." Jon smirked at him "...no, it did not. There are those in Astapor who believe that Second Sons are coming in the name of Daenerys Stormborn, not us. Or that suits them better." 

"They have caught some peasant folk living near Astapor and allowed them to flee into the city. But before that, they have told them how Yunkai has once again knelt before the Breaker of Chains and how there are no more slaves in the yellow city, yet all work and have food on their tables. That is not so here, captain, here many masters were killed and men they once owned now are lost, there is no work for them. And no pay. What they hear of Yunkai is now tempting." 

Jon nodded: "Men will believe even lies when they sing the song of their liking. Keep listening what people of this city say, Eliar.  
We can hold Daario Naharis outside the city walls only if all of Astapor stands with us." 

"Mayhaps it would be wiser to offer him a battle." Dornishman said.

"I'd like nothing more. To wipe that smirk off his cursed Tyroshi face. But I want him to wear out, I want him to make his first mistake.  
And he will. He is in haste, we're not. This ruse of Second Sons being the true army of Queen Daenerys will not endure the test of time."  
"Then we must endure it." Eliar shrugged. "How do we stand with water?" Jon asked.

"There's no shortage of it. Cisterns and wells are guarded night and day. That Naharis cunt could poison the Worm river,  
folk here don't drink it but they use it for all else, washing clothes, watering gardens." 

"Then he will poison it surely. He wants us to come out and face him in the open. Well it will snow in Hellholt before I grant him what he wishes." Jon said angrily. 

He dreamed of Dany that night. He dreamed of her almost every night since he came to Astapor. On some nights he would dream of Winterfell, of Robb and Arya, of Bran being bad at archery, of little Rickon and of Sansa. Of father... who hid him under bastard's name. Statue of his mother from the crypts came to his dream as well.. waking up after those dreams would leave him troubled and sad...  
This night he dreamt of his silver-haired love again, of her eyes glowing warm, of her giggling, of holding her tight... then she vanished only to return, but she was not alone... there was a girl with her, holding Dany's hand, old as Arya was when he saw her last, this girl had Dany's face and his hair and she laughed same as Dany... her grey eyes gave him a gaze he knew only daughter can give to her father. She ran to him and Jon embraced the girl and lifted her in the air... _Tala._.. he said to her. Then he woke up. Sleep eluded him for rest of the night as he was thinking how same child was in his dream as was in Dany's. _I will never father a bastard_ , he said oft. That night, lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling of his Astapor chamber. With first rays of dawn, Jon made a promise to himself and to Daenerys. 

Every morning he would climb the walls of Astapor and walked for their whole length. From the mouth of Worm river along the wall that guarded the city harbor, then Jon would turn eastwards, once more passing over Worm which flew lazily through the city, roughly shaping the "S" letter of Westerosi scripture, heavy iron portcullis was lowered down so no one could enter the city by the river. In times of peace, farmers from inland would come to the city with their small boats to trade. Sometimes even slaves were ferried down the river, when masters of Astapor would meet with Dothraki khals outside the city. Good Masters preferred to keep the horse lords as far as possible, but Dothraki acted as they pleased. Sometimes they would keep their distance, sometimes Astapor would wake up with khalassar beneath its walls.  
Today Jon looked at different army encamped under eastern wall. Behind him, some half a mile away, was Jothiel's Pit, now closed. Fighting pits of Astapor, same as those in Meereen, no longer provided bloody entertainment where men fought men but also little children were forced to fight beasts. Or beasts in truth were fed with living boys and girls. Jon despised this part of Ghiscari customs. Fighting pits were foreign and abominable to him. Fighting pits were place from which Daario Naharis came out. He despised this Tyroshi sellsword as well.

Camp of Second Sons was quiet. They were still asleep, save few men on guard posts that were leaned on their spears or sitting on wooden crates or tree trunks. Another night of drinking and lusting was behind sellswords. Jon smirked at this notion. Second Sons were not such sellsword company whose loyalty would last long without wine to drink and camp followers to bed. Daario Naharis mayhaps promised them that soft naked women and strong red wine await them in Astapor, but gates of red city remained shut and sellsword's thirst and hunger cannot wait. Daario had no choice but to keep his men well provisioned in that regard. Or he would be risking to meet the same fate his captains have not so long ago. Jon was pleased. Thus far having Second Sons to lay siege of Astapor worked in his favor. Men he commanded were far more disciplined than Daario's. Unsullied were trained to suffer hunger and thirst and they never lusted for women as they weren't men, not whole men at least. Company of the Wolf was closer to an army or personal guard than common sellswords and Jon knew they will stand their ground even with prolonged siege. Second Sons were camped before red city for ten days now. 

"Daario Naharis cannot take this city. He does not have enough men. He has no siege weapons. And he knows this. I want him to attack first. And he will. What choice does he have? To camp here for moons?" Jon said to his officers. He was aware though that being under siege is poor choice for him as well. Astapor was a wounded, unstable city where one shift could turn its people against Jon and his army.

"Prince Aegon..." 

Jon looked in the direction from where the voice came. It was that same old man which was captured by the Unsullied in the harbor.  
One who served the council Daenerys appointed when she took Astapor.

"Harbor's scribe... right?" Old man nodded: "And a teacher. Those were my tasks when I was a slave." 

"Hence your Common Tongue. It's very good." "Prince is very kind." man replied.

"I only say what is true, my... I do not know your name." Jon said. "Sȳzteptys." was the answer.

"Goodteacher? Your name is... Goodteacher?" "It is a name given to me when I was only a bit older than you're now. By my master."

"What of your true name?"  
Man shrugged: "Long forgotten. I was brought to Astapor as a child. For many years they simply called me the ninth boy." 

Jon frowned: "Ninth boy?" "My master had nine slave boys of similar age. I was among the lucky ones, I remained with him." 

"And others?"  
"He sold them to be trained as Unsullied. Some he sold to the fighting pits. None of them lived to be even half as old as I am now." 

"Those days are gone now." Jon said. "For that I ask of you to hear me, prince Aegon." "You may speak." 

"I was told that you know of people who wish to sail to Tolos..." "Yes, to be made slaves there again." Jon's voice was marked with disagreement.

"Yes. They wish to be safe in Tolos..."  
Jon shook his head: "Safe? They choose safety of collar over uncertainty of freedom. Where I come from, that differs dog from a wolf.  
And no man wishes to be a dog." 

"Tolos is a place where little boys are not gelded and turned into soldiers. You came here with a thousand of the Unsullied. That is one thousand newborn babes each of them had to kill to earn his shield. That does not happen in Tolos. Little boys are not thrown into fighting pits for bears to eat them." 

"It is over with that in Astapor now." Jon told him.  
"Over... for how long? Till silver queen and his armies stay here. She is of Westeros.  
Same as you are. When you leave, what will happen? Masters will return." 

"Once masters will return to be masters only if once slaves allow them to. There is many fold more of you than them. And you fear them. You should not." 

"I am an old man. It is too late for me. Those children silver queen freed... they will have no fear. But, some of us that have that fear, want to go to Tolos." Sȳzteptys said to Jon.

"Are you among them?" "No, prince, I will stay here. I am to serve the new council same as I have the old one."

"Should I agree to this trade with Tolos and it seems that once masters and once slaves equally want it, then I expect loyalty from this new council. To me, to Queen Daenerys, not to men whose tents we're watching right now." 

"I will convey that message..." Sȳzteptys began to talk.

"No, you will not. You will tell Aznor, Gamassa and Moznil that I expect to see them at Plaza of Pride five hours after midday." 

Sȳzteptys walked away, leaving Jon along on the walls. He was leaned on the battlement, gazing absently at the camp of Second Sons.  
He thought of Daenerys again. _Is it hard for her to rule and understand Meereen as it is for me to do the same in Astapor..._


	16. ENEMIES

_Meereen, Essos, year 300 After Conquest_

**ENEMIES**

_Old Ghis ruled an empire when the Valyrians were still fucking sheep, and we are the sons of the harpy._

"Sons of the Harpy?" young queen asked.

"Yes, Your Grace, they've left it on the body." Ser Barristan confirmed. "They've never killed before." she said. 

"There was only a matter of time, Your Grace. Conquerors always meet with resistance." 

"I did not conquer them. Their own people did." Daenerys countered. Young man dressed in simple dun clothes, a Meereenese named Mossador said in Valyrian dialect of the city: "They do not see us as people, Your Grace."

"Then they will have to learn to see things differently, Mossador." she answered him in High Valyrian, then continued in Common Tongue:  
"He did not risk his life fighting for his freedom so cowards in masks could take it away and I did not take up residence in this pyramid so I could watch the city below decline into chaos. What was the name of the man you lost?" 

"White Rat, Your Grace." She never liked the Unsullied having names of vermin, but she let them choose how they shall be called when she freed them of their chains. 

"I want him buried with honor, publicly in the Temple of the Graces." were her next words.

"Sons of the Harpy will hear that message." old knight sad approvingly. "Make them very angry..." Mossador added.

"Angry snakes lash out. It makes chopping off their heads that much easier... Find the men who did this and bring them to me." Daenerys said with resolve. 

"Your Grace..." Ser Barristan nodded before leaving together with Grey Worm, Mossador and Missandei.  


"Lord Beron... remain with me for a while." she said.

Stark of Pentos approached her: "Your Grace...?"

She looked at him worryingly: "Jon has been in Astapor for twenty days and he has not sent a single report to me." 

"Your Grace, he..."  
Her hand waved in dismissal: "Messenger came from Daario Naharis. Accusing Jon of becoming renegade and taking the city for himself. Second Sons now lay siege of Astapor. In my name. Jon is holding the Astapor. In my name." 

"Surely you know that Daario is not..." Beron began to talk.

"Daario Naharis has made grave accusations against member of House Targaryen. Only living member besides me. For that, I have summoned both Jon and Daario to Meereen." 

Beron frowned: "It appears that you want Daario to repeat his accusations to Jon's face."  
She nodded: "And I want them both here so their armies will not fight over Astapor. Not with their commanders away." 

He smiled: "Clever. Yet it could end with them in single combat, right before you."

"Not without my permission and I will never allow that duel to take place." Daenerys replied. 

"And if Jon were one to answer your call and Naharis does not? He could use that to attack the red city." Beron told her.

"You do not know Daario. He craves for audience. He will not miss this chance. And this mummer show could be his last." 

"Then this summoning is a trap for him?" Daenerys nodded and that made Beron to grin:  
"I admire you more with each passing day, Queen Daenerys." 

Ten days later, ship from Astapor anchored at Meereenese harbor.

Captain of Company of the Wolf and Prince of the Seven Kingdoms stood at the deck. He was irked with this voyage, irked with the message this same ship brought to the red city, irked with the notion he has to stand before the queen of Meereen and defend himself from filth coming from the mouth of a common sellsword. True, he was a sellsword himself, but even as bastard of Winterfell Jon Snow was of noble blood and he was raised as highborn.

As Aegon Targaryen he was of two noble lineages that would never allow their honor to be questioned or judged by likes of Daario Naharis. Even when there were true reasons for it. And he knew there were no reasons to question his honor.  
Jon took this as an affront and he burned the queen’s message which summoned him to Meereen before the very eyes of his Dornish serjeant.

“That was Queen’s scroll…” Eliar said in disbelief.

“And this is Prince’s candle. Against which scroll fared badly.”

“I shall take my horse from below deck and disembark within half an hour. See that my mount is ready.” Jon said to the ship’s captain.

“Prince Aegon, you should wait for the Unsullied to arrive, they’re to provide you with an escort.”

“That will not be needed. Infantry escorting man on a horse only slows him down.”

“It was Queen’s…”

Jon gave him a look that said more than any word so his sentence remained unfinished.  
“Get my horse ready and allow me to choose how shall I proceed further.”

“Yes, Prince.” ship's captain nodded.

He was in the saddle twenty minutes later and rode past the marching score of the Unsullied that was headed towards the quay, they did not recognize him, much to his amusement. He did not smile for long, though. As he entered further into the city, Jon could tell something was not right. Square before the Temple of Graces was empty and temple itself was closed which he found odd. Same as any place of worship anywhere in the Known World, there should be believers coming and going from the temple with small merchants offering their goods, from clay statues of gods to food and drink. That was so when Meereen was taken. That was so many days after it, some Ghiscari nobles went to the temple to pray for their gods to bring curse on the dragon queen and her slave soldiers. _Truly odd,_ he thought.

That truly odd lasted for the rest of his ride to the Great Pyramid. It was three hours till noon, time when folk of Meereen are crowding the streets, alleys and squares of the city, before the heat becomes so that it is wisest to rest in the shade. Gates of courtyards and gardens were barred. Few stray dogs roamed the streets. He met less than dozen people along the way, all of those were men, all rushing. All gave him a hateful stare. He had his fill of such gazes in Astapor. It was not so here, not when he was here last.

The first thing his gaze caught on the Great Pyramid was its apex. Large statue of harpy was gone. That was not surprise to him, Breaker of Chains was not to have her court underneath the creature which stood for slavery. What was surprise to him was the number of guards on the pyramid. There were thrice as many of the Unsullied holding guard, he could see shields and spears of every of thirty-three levels of the building. It was not odd anymore; something was not right.

“Captain!” he has heard a man shouting and turned back.

Dono Pahrah of Norvos with ten more riders of Company of the Wolf was approaching in slow canter.

“Lord Beron has sent us to meet you in the port but you were quicker.”

Jon smiled: “Beron sent eleven men to guard me? Does he see me as toddler now?”

Dono’s face was serious as his horse stood side by side with Jon’s: “This city has gone for the worse, captain.”

“Aye, that much is plain. What could scare the city folk off the streets?”

“Murderers, captain. Cunts hiding under masks that kill queen’s men, freedmen, nobles that do not support them, even the Unsullied.”

“Then they are either mad or brave to challenge the Unsullied.” Jon said.

“Neither, my lord. They’ve killed one or two of them in brothel.” Dono replied.

“What in seven hells were eunuch soldiers doing in a brothel?!” he wondered.

Dono shrugged: “Some say they’re good pussylickers… Sons of the Harpy caught them there with their guard down.  
That is how these killers call themselves.”

“Sons of the Harpy…” Jon smirked “…luckily for them sigil of Old Ghis was not a hog or a goat.” 

Dono chuckled then asked: “Are you about to meet with the Queen?”

“I am, yes. I can’t say how long it will last.”

“We shall wait for you, Beron told us to escort you to our barracks. Our horses need watering and rest. We have been charged to patrol the wider city streets, while the Unsullied enter the narrow alleys. That keeps those masked shits in the shadows during day.” Norvoshi lieutenant told him.

“And during night?” Jon asked.

“Night is theirs, captain. In most of the city.”

“Then most of the city is theirs.” he concluded as they were dismounting on the ground level of Great Pyramid.

“Captain, word has come to me that Daario Naharis is in Meereen as well. And I saw few of his men in a tavern nearby.”

Jon shook his head: “I should pay him an hour or two in that brothel…”

“Dārilaros, ao naejot māzigon mērī sia daor. Emi jittan lantēpsa Dovaogēdy…”  
( _Prince, you weren’t to come alone. We have sent twenty Unsullied_ …)

One of court servants on the ground level began to talk, but he dismissed him:  
“Nyke emagon ūndegīon zirȳ. Nyke jaelagon naejot ūndegon se Dāria sir.”  
( _I have seen them. I want to see the queen now_.)

“Dāria isse dēmalion tistālion iksis…” ( _Queen is in the throne room_ …)

“Sȳz. Nyke gīmigon se ñuhoso.” ( _Good. I know the way_.)

Jon entered the pyramid and went up the servant's steps, taking the long climb to the thirty-second level where throne room and audience chamber was. He liked that room of sand colored marble, it had high ceiling and same as most of the pyramid it was pleasantly cool.  
Stairs led him to the hallway before the very chamber and there he saw petitioners waiting to be received by the queen.

About thirty of them gathered, from noblemen in their tokars to once slaves and despite this hallway not being very wide, these two groups kept distance from one another, even if that made them to crowd on the opposing ends.There were six of the Unsullied and four Dothraki standing watch along the hallway. Jon’s face darkened when he saw who stood in the middle of room talking to one group then another with self-content grin.

Daario Naharis.

“Behold! The savior of Astapor. Or the bane of the red city. Depending if you still have the head on your shoulders or not.” Daario said aloud mockingly.

“Your shoulders surely don’t strain much, bearing an empty head.” Jon replied as he waked to him.

“Even empty heads can tell when a Westerosi bastard does mummer show of being dragon blood.” Daario said, then he turned to the men in tokars: “Does he look as a Targaryen prince to you?”

Meereenese nobles did not answer, nor have they smirked at Jon as Daario did.

“A true scion of Old Valyria… look at his silver-hair and purple eyes, same as dragonlords of Freehold… Aegon the Baseborn…” Tyroshi continued.

Jon’s eyes narrowed and he turned away from Daario, he tried to remain calm and made few paces to the entrance of audience chamber where two Unsullied guards stood. Words of mockery followed him:  
“Look at him walking away with tail between his legs, same as any dog. Same as any mangy pup that does not know what bitch gave birth…”

A savage, inhuman sound came from Jon’s mouth, it was both roar and scream of purest rage, Daario barely blinked his eyes, he did not even saw dagger before it was buried deep under his chin, almost to the hilt. Jon twisted the blade and then pulled it out, slashing sellsword’s throat in the process. There was a glint in his eyes and he smiled at Daario while blood gushed from his mouth and throat. Commander of the Second Sons tried to pull his own blade out with one hand while other clutched the gapping wound, but soon he sank to his knees as life was leaving him. Daario Naharis fell face down at the feet of dark-haired young man whose clothes had few crimson stains.

He twitched few times before dying.

Jon’s eyes were burning same as blood in his veins. Content smirk came to his face.

“Zokla botagon ánghowa daor. Zaldrīzes qilōnarion zirȳ.”  
Jon said, wiping the blade of his dagger on the sleeve of his tunic, to the petitioners who now looked at him with fear.

_Wolf suffers no insults. Dragon punishes them._

His eyes went from one man to another, before saying: “I suggest you come to seek audience with the Queen tomorrow.”  
Both once slaves and once masters nodded and hurried out of the hallway.

One of the Unsullied entered the audience chamber while other guards had their spears and arakhs pointed at Jon.

“My fight is not with you…” Jon told them calmly “…take me to your queen.”

“Daenerys Jelmāzmo aō naejot dēmas, Dorzalty, Mīrīno Dāria, Andalot se Rhoinaro se Ēlio Valot Dāria, hen Parmenko Embāzma Khalēsi, Belmo Pryjatys se Muña Zaldrīzoti..."  
( _You stand before Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons._ )

Missandei addressed an older man, whose thinning hair was as white as his beard was. He wore clothes that resembled those of noblemen of the city, but it was plain how fabric was much cheaper and it was all in one color, that of a sand. If this man were to stand in next to a wall of audience chamber, in darker corners no one would even notice him there.

“Kirimvose syt urnes yno, Aōhis Eglives. Ñuha brōzi Fennesz iksis.” ( _Thank you for seeing me, Your Grace. My name is Fennesz_.)

Then he said: “I can speak the Common Tongue, if you wish.”

“You speak it very well…” she said with approving smile.

“Before you freed me, I belonged to a master Maqdal. I was tutor to his children. I taught them languages and history.  
They know a great deal about your family because of me.” Fennesz said, last words accompanied with smile.

Queen smiled back at him as he continued: “Little Calla is only seven, but she admires you very much.”

“I hope I can prove worthy of her admiration…” Daenerys said before asking: “What can I do for you?”

“When you took the city, the children begged me not to leave the house, but master Maqdal and I agreed that I must so I lost my home.  
Now I live on the streets...” Smile was gone from queen’s face as she responded:  
“I have outfitted mess halls to feed all former slaves and barracks to shelter…”

“I do not mean to offend Your Grace, I went to one of these places, the young prey on the old, take what they want and beat us if we resist.” Fennesz countered.

“My Unsullied will make them safe again in short order, my friend, this is promise you.” she said with determination.

“Even if they are safe, who would I be there? What purpose would I serve? With my master I was a teacher. I had respect and love of his children…”

Her face softened, same as her gaze: “What is it that you want from me?”

“Your Grace, I ask you to let me sell myself back to master Maqdal.” old man said.

“You want to return to a man who owned you like a goat or a chair?” she asked.

“Please, Your Grace, the young may rejoice in the new world you have built for them, but for those of us too old to change there is only fear and squalor. I am not alone, there are many outside waiting to beg the same…”

Fennesz voice was one of disheartened man and Daenerys saw that clearly.

“I did not take this city to preside over the injustice I fought to destroy. I took it to bring people freedom…” she said to him and his head went down. Daenerys continued: “…but freedom means making your own choices. I will allow you to sign a contract with your former master. It may not cover a period lasting longer than a year.”

“Thank you, Your Grace… thank you.” Fennesz said with relief and slowly walked down the throne stairway, leaving Daenerys with divided thoughts.

“The masters will take advantage of this situation…” voice of Barristan Selmy, who as ever stood at her side, made her turn to him “…men serving them will be slaves in all but name.”

She was aware of that herself and it burdened her from the moment old teacher brought it as a way to survive. She wanted to say something, but Grey Worm who was at her side as well stepped forward: “Guard from the hallway…”

One of his men, same as all the Unsullied who stood watch around the throne room carrying shield and spear with spiked helm covering his head and face, came inside in rushed pace, knelt down and said:

“Ñuha dāria, Dārilaros Aegon kesīr issa.” ( _My queen, Prince Aegon is here._ )

“Ivestragī zirȳla rēbagon…” she said, smile returning to her face. ( _Let him pass._ )

“Ñuha dāria… ziry ossēntan Dārio Naharis.” ( _My queen, he killed Daario Naharis._ )

“Skoros??” Daenerys asked rising from her throne, the white stone bench. ( _What?_ )

“Ánghowa sia vestās… Pār egry...” kneeling guard answered. _(Insults were said, then dagger…)_

“Jikagon Dārilaros Aegon kesīr!” she ordered in loud voice which made guard to get up and hastily leave the audience chamber.  
( _Send Prince Aegon here!_ )

When she saw him enter, her heart beat faster and blood stains on his tunic almost made her to sigh aloud. Two of the Unsullied accompanied him, bowed to her and left while the other two, ones that were guarding the throne stairs, moved closer towards Jon. He was disarmed, one of the Dothraki stood behind with his belt and scabbard. When her eyes met his, it took all the joy from her. His gaze was cold, he never looked at her like that.

Grey eyes were not filled with love, but with anger. And resentment. Her stance changed the very next moment, she stood firm now.

Old Selmy was frowning, looking at them both and Daenerys noticed that.

“Queen Daenerys…” he said, not without defiance.

“Prince Aegon, you have shed blood before this very room.” she said dryly.

“I have.” he gave a slight nod.

“This is the queen’s court, not a tavern or inn where you can draw daggers in a brawl. Have you forgotten that?” was her question.

“An insult is an insult, no matter where you suffer it, Your Grace. And I have had my fill of insults. Not only by Daario Naharis.” came the answer. Grey eyes were as glued at her. His gaze began to hurt her.

“For whatever words Daario Naharis said against you, I would…”

“You already have, Your Grace. You have summoned me here for no other reason save words he said against me. I will not lie and say I had no trouble with that for my work in Astapor was not yet done. What I could not suffer is him insulting my mother. I never knew her, but she was my mother. And for that, I have slashed his foul mouth open and his throat. I trust that my father would have done the same.  
The man who, I am sure you remember, was your brother. Family is important. Trusting your family even more.”

Violet eyes and grey eyes were narrowed, anger filling both of them. Daenerys’ face was stern now. Jon accused her before all of her advisors.

“Ser Barristan, escort the prince to council chamber. I wish to speak with him in private.” were her next words, while her gaze was burning Jon where he stood.

Daenerys walked in the chamber where she held meetings with her most trusted advisers, Jon was standing there, his arms crossed at his chest. The dragon sash was around his waist and she was glad for it, though she hid it behind coldness.

“Have you gone mad in Astapor...?” she said to him angrily “...you have not only killed a man I have summoned here; you have disrespected me before my whole court.”

“You have disrespected me.” he answered with same anger.

“When have I done that? When?” she walked closer to him.

“When you have sent the message to Astapor calling me here to answer for charges made against me by the son of a common whore. That is when.  
I have found great joy in burning that message. Fire indeed cleanses…” he smiled at her.

“You are a Targaryen. There is no doubt about that. But not a very smart one it seems. Do you truly think I have believed accusations Daario made against you?”

“You have not dismissed them either, otherwise I’d still be in Astapor, making it what you… what we want it to be. And I have done well in the red city.”

She frowned: “Have you? I can’t tell. You have not sent a single word to me. For one whole moon. That is disrespect, Jon Targaryen.  
To me as a queen. And utter lack of care for me as a woman you claim to love. You are a fool if you can’t tell how wrong that was.”

“I wanted to return to you when all was done, to tell you that there are no more of our enemies in Astapor.” he replied firmly.

“That was stupid. I had to get information from others, words how a dragon prince decorates the walls of Astapor with chopped off heads.  
Gods, some stories made you seem as Maegor the Cruel reborn.”

He shrugged: “Some stories claim you’re just as mad as your father was. What of it? Aye, I have chopped some heads. It was a cost of restoring order there. I have no regrets. Those men were killers, rapers, thieves… filth that have done far worse with their victims. I’ve served justice upon them, same as you have on those masters nailed on the mileposts.”

“And I’ve heard how Ser Jorah Mormont found his way in Astapor.”

“He did.”

“And you’ve allowed him to stay.”

“There was a purpose for that.” he said.

“What purpose could you have with a traitor?”

“One that will serve us both. That is all I shall say of it for now.”

“Word also came to me of you allowing slaves to sell themselves in Tolos.”

“I did allow it...” he sighed “…I curse that decision ever since.”

“I will not judge you for it, Jon. I allowed once slave to return to his master today as well...” Dany’s face softened and she made two more paces and placed her palm on his cheek “…from where this rage and anger come? You were angry with me.”

“I was. Mayhaps I still am.” he replied kissing her hand.

“But why?” she asked.

“I was offended by your summoning me and Daario here.”

“You thought I treat you as equals.” she said sighing.

“What else I could have thought? Your message was clear in that regard.”

“I wanted to lure Daario here, for us to find him a liar he is. Making false accusations against Targaryen prince… I planned to throw him in dungeon and use him as tool in dealing with Second Sons.” she explained.

He smiled at her, at last, and said: “There are two large issues with that plan, Dany. One, he would challenge me to a single combat to avoid dungeon. A combat I am not certain I would have won. And two, sellswords, those of sort as Second Sons could decide not to follow chained commander or they could stay true to him. It is never certain with such men, with Daario as your prisoner another one could have emerged  
from their ranks as new leader. Just as it will now, when word of his death reaches them… have you consulted anyone about this plan?”

She shook her head: “No, not in all details. I’ve told Beron that I am laying a trap for Daario and he liked it.”

“A courtesy, I’d say.” Jon grinned. 

Her eyes narrowed: “Something which you lack entirely, _Aegon_.”

Jon chuckled: “I’ve missed you, Daenerys Stormborn.”

She shook her head: “If that were true, you would send at least one letter to me from Astapor.  
Not as a report to your queen, but as a letter to one you love. Damn you.” 

“I have dreamed of you almost every night.”

“Words are wind.” she replied with even tone.

“I dreamt of Lyaenys one night as well.”

“Of whom?” her eyes widened.

“Our daughter. That is how I call her. One with your beautiful face and my hair and eyes. You told me she was in your dream.  
I saw her in my dream too… īlva tala, īlva Lyaenys.”

Her eyes watered and she put her arms around him: “Our Lyaenys… I love that name. Lyanna and Rhaenys combined.  
If we’re ever to have a little girl, that is how she will be named. That is if we don’t kill each other before.”

Jon kissed her head: “That would be truly foolish, knowing how many people want us dead, east and west…  
Dany, you’ll get blood on your dress embracing me.”

“Then you better get that tunic off… I'll get out of this dress.”

“You want us bare… here? In council chamber.”

“I will have you, now, before you anger me again. And I know you will.”

“Ser Barristan…” Jon began to talk, but Dany cut him:

“…is a knight of Queensguard and I firmly believe we’re not the first Targaryen couple he guarded while making love.”


	17. DAENERYS

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**DAENERYS**

_Vēttir vēttir issa_

Dark-haired Targaryen lay on top of his silver-haired lover kissing her neck tenderly. He slowly worked his way down Dany’s chest, admiring every square inch of the body that was lying under him. His mouth circled around Dany’s right breast and then finally locked onto her nipple. Jon enjoyed kissing it, even taking it between his teeth until it was rock hard again. He could feel her heart beating faster as he went over to the left breast and repeated the gentle licking. As he played with the nipple, Jon slid his left hand between Dany’s legs; he could feel the moisture building in young queen's most tender parts.

He inched his way down her tight belly until he reached her nether lips which gleamed with wetness. Jon lowered his head and moved his tongue up and down Dany's swollen bud. She was breathing heavily, slight moans coming from her mouth together whispered profanities in High Valyrian and Common Tongue alike. Daenerys never cursed, only when making love to him, when all her restraints were gone. Dany’s muscles tensed and a thin glaze of sweat started to appear all over her body. The night breeze blowing in from the window only added to her sensations. Jon slowed his rhythm down now, not wanting to take her too far just yet. He reached his hands up and began to gently rub her breasts as he moved her mouth from her petals.

"Is this to Her Grace's liking?"

Instead answering, Daenerys grabbed his hair and pushed his head back down between her thighs. He smiled at her and his tongue caused Dany to moan again. Not long after Jon could tell she was getting closer to the boiling point, her moans were loud now. He played a wicked game with her, kissing and licking the beauty between her legs. He continued for a bit longer, placing kisses and playing with his tongue, then pulling away just before Dany could reach her peak. She would thrust her hips up every time Jon lifted his head. She cursed even more and then managed to catch him, wrapping her legs around him, she was soaking wet.

It did not take long until Jon's tongue caused eighteen-year-old queen to scream in ecstasy, arching her whole body skyward. He kept on kissing and licking even as Dany tried to turn her body away, sensations too intense to for her to bear any longer. At last, Jon rose up and watched how his beautiful lover writhes in delight. 

"Why do I let you torment me so with your tongue?" she asked, lying side by side with Jon. 

"Because you like it." he answered.

"I do..." she nodded smiling. 

"And, though I find it a bit odd, I like you not having hair..." 

"Don't get used to it..." she said "...it's a Ghiscari fashion of which Missandei has told me. I am not certain if I like it much..." 

"I do... when I saw you bare for the first time after I've returned from Astapor, I was surprised not to see fur..." 

"Jon!! You are such a savage sometimes! Fur?? Is that how you call it in the North? I guess some women there have fur on their breasts as well..." 

"Oh... so you are mocking the North again... I should tickle you for it." She shook her head: "You will not." He kissed her gently: "No, I will not." 

Then he gave her a long, loving gaze: "Dany, only when I am with you, I can truly tell how hollow my life was before you came along." 

Her face glowed at his words, then she said: "I've never loved anyone as I love you, Jon. I want you to know that. I liked you from the first." 

"No, you did not. I irked you in Yunkai, I irked you on the road to Meereen..." 

"Yes, you have. And you do. And you will. We irk each other. But, you are the only one that can understand me..." she said before leaning on him even tightly: "I am no fool, Jon. I can tell how many around me watch my every move, watch all I do and seek my father, seek traces of his taint. Traces of Targaryen madness." 

Jon sighed: "Dany, he was your father. And my father's father. Mayhaps I have the taint too..." "You do not." she said softly. 

"I enjoyed watching Daario Naharis die. I truly did. He deserved to die. I did not kill him very honorably, I've killed him in rage.  
But I felt such joy looking how he twitches on the floor. Was that taint? Who can tell..." 

"When you were in Astapor, Ser Barristan and lord Beron told me all they could of my father, of my mother, of Rhaegar. I know now that my father was an evil man. My mother suffered being married to him, he envied and feared Rhaegar, his own son... and what he did to your mother's father and her brother... I am so sorry, Jon... How dreadful is to know that your grandfather tortured your other grandfather to the death. Gods or fate can truly be cruel sometimes." 

"Gods or fate have also brought us together, Dany. You are not the Mad King. Neither am I. No matter how much of his blood runs in our veins.  
I know that I oft act rashly. Mayhaps it's my mother's temper. Or my father's. He followed his heart and it ended with ruin of House Targaryen." 

Daenerys disagreed: "It was not Rhaegar who brought ruin to our family. It was his father. My father. I am not him. You are not Rhaegar, though both Ser Barristan and Beron say there is much of him in both of us. And House Targaryen has not seen its end. We are still here...  
Aegon and Daenerys... Jon and Dany..." 

"Aegon and Daenerys... it does sound as royal couple." he said chuckling. 

"Are we not?" she frowned at him. Jon shrugged: "I guess..."  
Dany sat up in the bed: "You guess? There is a throne of our forefathers across the Narrow Sea stolen from us, Jon." 

He rose up and now both were sitting. After placing soft kiss on her neck, Jon said: "I know... but, Dany, I've learned of who I truly am not two moons ago. Can you fathom how it is to be bastard in the morning and heir of the Realm in the evening, to learn that your whole life was a lie... that you by your own wishing have nearly ended on the edge of the world not ever knowing who your true mother and father were.  
My mother did not die birthing me so that I could end on the fucking Wall..." 

There was anger in his voice, anger and hurt. She cupped his face with her hands: "No, she did not. You did not end on the Wall, Aegon Targaryen. That mayhaps was fate of Jon Snow. But not yours. Same as Daenerys Targaryen did not end among crones of Dosh khaleen..." Dany shook her head before continuing: "...House Targaryen could have met its end with last two of its children being trapped for life, one in Night's Watch, other among widows of Dothraki khals. Both on the edge of the world. But it did not, Jon. It did not. Different future awaits us."

They shared a look which said more than hundred words and then kissed with ardor. Dawn of the next day found last two offspring of house of the dragon bare as on their nameday, sleeping in tight embrace. 

"I can do this myself..." Jon said as she was buttoning his linen jerkin. 

"I know you can... but I want to do it... I love doing it..." He grinned: "I thought you love undressing me." 

"Manners, my prince, manners. Now give me that sash... I should have known it then, dragons looked too good on you, for someone who was only a Snow." 

She tied her token around his waist and then gave him a kiss on the cheek: "Now you're ready for the council meeting... but before we shall break fast together." 

Daenerys loved Meereenese mornings, before she would immerse in affairs of the court, in ruling this large and strange city she came to free. She knew all too well how pyramids and streets and narrow alleys hid many of those which hated that freedom. Freedom she gave to slaves ruined those who lived by using other men and women as their property. They suffered defeat, it surprised them, humiliated them, enraged them. Fruit of that rage was this shadow host, that would come out of dark corners, strike and vanish. Army of masked men who waged campaign of violence and fear. They aimed at everyone. Once slaves no matter if they were men, women or children. Once masters if they have accepted the new world she established in Meereen, the Unsullied and all other men at arms that served her. Still, men hiding behind the harpy mask were not soldiers. Some got too bold. One got caught for being too bold.

"Sons of the Harpy. They want to put collar back on my neck. On all of our necks. Please, Your Grace, you must kill him." Mossador said sitting at the table in the council chamber.

"It would send a message..." Dany said, pacing around. 

"I think you should exercise restraint, Your Grace..." Ser Barristan said. 

"Why?" she replied impatiently. 

"Well, for one thing he may have valuable information." old knight told her.

"Well, the Son of the Harpy has no more valuable information..." Beron, sitting next to him, said.

"How do you know that?" Selmy asked.  
"Because I questioned him, Ser Barristan. I was of City Watch of King's Landing. Trust me, he has nothing more to say." Stark answered.

"And information you did get... he is young and fool." Hizdahr zo Loraq said. He sat on the council as well, representing once masters.  
His family, House of Loraq, was among ancient ones, among most prominent slavemasters in Meereen for many generations. He was a tall, slender man of amber skin, black hair and trimmed beard. Even at first glance, one could tell that Hizdahr did not have one day of hard work in his life. He spoke fluent Common Tongue, not unlike other highborn of the city.

"He is born free." Mossador countered him. 

"Why should he want to bring back slavery? What did it do for him?" Hizdahr asked once slave.

"Perhaps the only thing that gave him pride was knowing that there was someone lower than he was." Daenerys said walking around the table.

"They pay him. Great families afraid to do a thing, they pay poor men to do it for them..." Mossador spoke while she watched him with worried gaze.

"How do you know this?" Hizdahr asked. "Everyone know this." came the answer.  
Hizdahr was not convinced: "I don't know it and I am the head of great family." 

Ser Barristan said: "We do not know what this man did or did not do. Give him a trial at least. A fair trial. Show all the citizens of Meereen that you're better than those who would depose you. Teach them the better way." 

"I do not know the place from where old Ser comes, things maybe are different there I hope, but here in Meereen before Daenerys Stormborn they own us so we learn much about them or we do not live long. They teach me what they are. Mercy, fair trial, these mean nothing to them,  
all they understand is blood." young Mossador spoke with excitement. 

Daenerys looked at Jon whose eyes barely noticeable gestured toward Ser Barristan. Then she said: "Than you all for your counsel." 

Missandei, Hizdahr, Mossador rose from the table and left the room, Selmy walked to her: "Your Grace..." 

"I will not have the Son of the Harpy executed without a fair trial." she told him and he made a slight bow, pleased, before leaving. 

"Please stay, lord Beron... and you Jon... there is something we need to speak of." she said to two remaining men.

"Your Grace..." Stark of Pentos said and sat down again. Jon was now next to him, on the seat where Selmy was. Dany sat next to Jon. 

Then she said: "A ship came from Lys this morning. Bringing news from Westeros. Tywin Lannister is dead. Killed by his own son." 

Beron raised his eyebrows: "He had two sons. Has Kingslayer became a kinslayer as well?" 

"He was not killed by the one who killed my father. Lysene captain said one they call Imp killed him. And vanished from the Red Keep." Dany told him.

"Imp? Tyrion Lannister killed his father..." Jon frowned "...all dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes..." 

"What?" she asked.  
Jon answered: "It's something he told me when he was at Winterfell... when King Robert came... I wonder if old lion got Jorah's letter." 

Daenerys looked at him: "What letter?"

"When Jorah Mormont came to Astapor, I ordered him to write a letter to one he worked for, that Varys..." 

"Why did you do that?" she said, not liking this surprise.  
"Jon, you had Ser Jorah to write letter to Spider?" Beron asked him as well. 

"I told Jorah to write to this Spider how there are two Targaryens as Slaver's Bay... Daenerys Stormborn and a pretender, a sellsword who disputes her claim." Jon said calmly.

She grabbed his arm: "What made you do that? What were you thinking?"

He placed his other hand over hers: "I wanted those in King's Landing to believe we're at each other's throats. I hoped that will please them and they would not send a killer after you in Meereen, same as they have sent Jorah's pardon. A Targaryen locked in fight with her contender is much less of a threat than Targaryen whose eyes are turned to Westeros." 

"You did it to protect me?" she asked. He nodded: "I did."  
Dany gave him a warm gaze, but still said: "That was taking a great risk." Jon shrugged: "Befuddling enemy is how battles are won."

Beron shook his head: "Well said. But, Tywin Lannister fought many such battles and won. Queen is right. You've taken a great risk.  
Tywin could have ordered the murder of you both and Varys would have provided him with such service." 

"Those who dare sometimes are kissed by luck. Him being dead is luck, is it not?" Jon asked.  
Beron nodded: "From all I've learned of House Lannister in last few years, they're truly beheaded now. Ser Jamie was never too clever, dwarf is now as good as dead. That leaves his daughter and her bastard boy who sits on the Iron Throne now. I trust they're in no shape to act against us now, they must find a new head first." 

"Good..." she said "...that gives us time to end the slavery in Slaver's Bay once and for all... Lord Beron, I want you to go to Astapor." 

"He does not need to go with me, Dany..." Jon said, but she cut him: "He will not go with you. You are staying in Meereen." 

"My work in Astapor is not yet done." Jon countered. 

"And I see no better man to finish it than lord Beron Stark. He was a gold cloak commander. You have restored order in Astapor and made possible for them to elect new ruling council. Lord Beron will maintain order and make certain that Sons of the Harpy do not come to Astapor. Their council will make their own city watch or guard or however they want to name it." Dany said.

Jon did not like it: "What will I be doing here?" 

"You will fight the Sons of the Harpy with me. But first, you'll attend a parlay with Daario's men. Daario never trusted his commanders. He brought them to Meereen so they would not remain under the walls of Astapor and take over the Second Sonds. He is gone now and we shall see if his captains are willing to return to my service. I trust some will." 

"And those who do not?" Beron asked.

Dany's face got stern right away: "Heads. Spikes. Walls... I intent to have Second Sons commanded by men which will lift the siege of Astapor and undo any accord Daario made with Wise Masters of Yunkai." 

"I mislike when you make decisions without me. You should've told me of your plan to send Beron to Astapor." Jon told her, discontent visible on his face.

"Same as you've told me about sending letters to King's Landing." she replied.

Then both sighed aloud. "We must learn to speak with one another more." Daenerys said at last.  
"Aye, we should." he agreed. 

"Come with me to the apex, then. There is something that troubles me for days now..." were her next words.

Jon smiled when he saw Ghost lying under persimmon tree: "Look at him... becoming more and more lazy... Essosi heat and direwolf do not match well." 

"I am glad you did not take him to Astapor, he's been my true protector and companion." she said.

"Ghost barely lived through my journey from White Harbor to Pentos, I did not want him to suffer that again, sailing to Astapor." he said, scratching his silver-furred wolf behind ear. Ghost wagged his tail lazily and yawned.

"And how did he get along with dragons?" Jon asked. Daenerys took a deep breath: "I wanted to speak with you of them." 

Viserion lay wrapped around a pear tree, his head resting on his tail. When Dany came closer his eyes came open, two pools of molten gold. His horns were gold as well, and the scales that ran down his back from head to tail. “Another one who became lazy,” she told Jon, scratching dragon under his jaw. His scales were hot to the touch, like armor left too long in the sun. "Dragons are fire made flesh..." Dany said looking at Jon while he approached Rhaegal who was perched on the parapet wall. Bronze dragon grew since he saw him last and Jon could not hide his wonder: "Rhaegal, you're almost twice as big." Those words were met with purring sound as Jon's hand went over Rhaegal's jaw and neck. 

"This is what we are. This is what means to be a Targaryen... we are bound with dragons." Dany said, but with sadness is her voice which had not escape Jon: "It was Rheagal allowing me this close that made Ser Barristan to doubt about me..." 

"Yes, Aegon. Dragon knew your blood first. And dragons do not lie."  
He nodded and then asked: "Something is not right." 

"I can't hide when I am troubled from you, can I?" she asked. Jon shook his head: "No, you can't. What is it?" 

"That same sennihgt when you went to Astapor, a sheep herder came to seek audience with me. He claimed how black dragon has killed his sheep. He was paid for the loss in his heard. Fairly, more than fairly..." 

"All right... Drogon went hunting, to him sheep and deer are the same." Jon said.  
Dany sighed: "A day before you've returned another man came with bag of charred bones. He waited for all petitioners to leave..."

Tears went down her face and Jon turned away from Rhaegal and went to her: "Why do you cry?"  
"Those were bones of a child, Jon. A girl of four namedays. Burned by Drogon... Her name was Hazzea..."

"Where is Drogon now?" Jon asked.  
"I don't know. No one has seen him in a fortnight." she said with defeated tone. 

"Can't you... I mean you share bond with all of them... can't you call him back?" he asked.  
She lowered her head: "I fear I can't... And I don't want to see any more child bones laid before my feet." 

"So, what do you intend to do, Dany?"  
"I will.... I will lock dragons in the Great Pyramid..." she said, her voice shaking.

"You can't truly mean that." Jon looked at her, his eyes widened.

"I can't allow for them to roam free and kill another child. Or woman. Or man... I can't." there were tears running down her face again and Jon wrapped his arms around her.

"Dany, only way in which you can keep them inside this pyramid is to chain them."  
A sob escaped her: "I know... it pains me, but I must be done." 

"People call you Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains. And now mother puts her dragon children in chains..." Jon cupping her face with his palms "...do not do this. It is not right." 

"I know it is not right...!" she said in loud voice, marked with pain "...but, Jon, I have no other choice. Should any of them burn one more Meereenese, people will turn against me. Sons of the Harpy will use that discontent..." 

"Mayhaps it is all their ruse... you can dig out any dead child from the grave and put the bones in the fire, when they're charred enough who can tell how long is that child dead... Dragons are your strength, without them..."

"They are my children. But to others they are nothing but monsters... I am blood of the dragon. If they're monsters... then so am I." she said,  
her head leaned on his shoulder. She could not make peace with the death of that poor girl.

Jon stroke her silver tresses: "Then I am twice the monster... to the most direwolves are monstrous creatures as well."

She chuckled and then lifted her gaze at him: "You truly are my comfort, my refuge and my shield."

"Now and always..." he told her softly "...Rhaegal, Viserion and Drogon are yours. The choice of how you will tame them is yours.  
But, I beg you don't make them slaves in the city where you have ended slavery." 

Two hours before noon of the morrow, the Unsullied patrolling the city streets have found a man nailed to a wooden door in one of the narrow alleys, close to the Great Pyramid. He had two large nails in his chest and one in his head, that one held the harpy mask on his face. Soon, those guilty of that murder were caught. Mossador was one of them and he was brought before Daenerys, in the throne room, chained. 

"Why?" she asked. "For you, Mhysa. You wanted the Harpy dead, but your hands were tied. I set you free as you did all of us." Mossador answered in Meereen's Low Valyrian as he went down on his knees.

"He was our prisoner, awaiting trial. You had no right." she told him in High Valyrian. She was angry. 

"He would rather rip your city apart than see slaves lifted from the dirt." 

"There are no more slaves. There are no more Masters." Daenerys said. 

"Then who lives in pyramids? Who wears gold masks and kills your children? When Grey Worm came to us, I was the first one to take up the knife for you. I remember the look on my father's face as I struck down his master, who had traded his infant son for a dog." Dany's face saddened upon hearing these words. 

"My father died in the fighting..." Mossador continued "...if we allow the Sons of the Harpy to return us to chains, he never lived." 

With shaken voice Dany said: "The Harpy's live was not yours to take. Once, the Masteres were the law..."

"And now, you are the law." once slave told her.

"Vēttir vēttir issa. The law is the law." she said, irked with his words. Her next words were to the Unsullied guards: "Take him!" 

She rose from the stone bench and walked out of the throne room, wiping tears from her eyes. She did not want to execute Mossador, but she knew there is no other choice.

"That was not a true attack. Merely a test of our defenses and our resolve. And I say Company of the Wolf has passed that test. Ten of those fuckers wearing masks will not be breaking fast this morning." Beron Stark told his kinsman as they walked to the ship which was to take him and hundred soldiers, mostly Meereenese freedmen to Astapor. 

"I wish I could go with you." Jon said. 

"You wish you could go instead of me." Beron said with a smirk.

"I wanted to end what I've began..." 

"I will end that. You must be at her side now. She is a good young woman, Jon. I am certain of it now.  
Your father would be proud of his little sister and of his son. Be with her, support her, counsel her."

"I shall, but she is not very easy to counsel. Dany is stubborn, arrogant and impulsive." Jon answered which made Beron to laugh:  
"Well, dear cousin, you've just described yourself."

Dark-haired Targaryen sighed: "We're kin after all..." 

"You must help her, Jon. She means well for all people of this city. But, meaning well and making it come to pass is not always easy.  
Don't let ruling Meereen to break her. One day..."

"One day what?" Jon asked.

"The two of you are heirs of the Iron Throne. You are man and woman in love, a royal couple in making.  
Meereen and Slaver's Bay is your training for the Seven Kingdoms." 

"She wants to retake Westeros... I don't know if..." 

"You want it as well, Jon, but it will take a bit more time for the thought of you being the true heir of House Targaryen to settle in your mind. Daenerys and you with united claims and three dragons... gods help anyone standing in your way..." 

Jon shrugged: "I need a bit more time, it seems. Yet, you're right, Beron, should we fail in Slaver's Bay, if slavers chase us out...  
no one in Westeros will join Dany or me." 

"For that you and her must act as one. Or you will fail. And I do not want to see you, young dragons failing...  
Captain, till my return, Company of the Wolf is yours."

"Safe journey, lord Stark." Jon replied with smile, before embracing his kinsman. 


	18. JON

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**JON**

_To some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains._

He wiped the blood off his blade, in lazy moves, it seemed he was enjoying to see how crimson fluid is slowly vanishing from the steel. Under his feet a dead man lay, blood stain covered most of his back while mask covered his face. When still living, this corpse charged at Jon with a short sword. A mistake paid with life. He was third Son of the Harpy Jon slew that night. Or was he fifth. Jon lost count of his own kills. He knew the number of all dead enemies who attacked the once fighting pit which was now barracks of the Company of the Wolf. Sons of the Harpy came over the walls that night, surprised of how few guards there were, some went for the horses, to scatter them, others tried to sneak in the chambers where sellswords were sleeping. They came inside the wolf's den and wolves were awake. Instead of sleeping sellsword, they have met the wall of shields and spears which pushed them in the open, in the arena and then archers hidden on the stands did their work, first bringing light to the place with fire arrows and then releasing deadly volleys which soon left only few Harpies standing, those that tried to fight their way out. 

Jon cut down few of them and he did it with such eagerness that left even some of his men in wonder. Rage overtook him. An image of once slave girl, who did not even have her twelfth nameday yet, flashed in his mind as he was slashing and stabbing masked foes. Girl was selling food from a cart, her family was one of the few of former slaves in that part of Meereen that was able to work for themselves and not for their once masters. That of course could not be allowed by Sons of the Harpy. They have grabbed her from the street, raped her and murdered her, leaving girl nailed on her own house door. Upon learning this, Jon ordered to his men not to take Sons of the Harpy as prisoners. Tonight it was the first time he crossed sword with the enemy since that poor girl was killed. His men obeyed and no mercy was shown to the enemy. 

He saw one crawling away, broken arrow sticking from his left thigh and one of his men getting ready to pin him to the ground with a spear. Jon quickly gestured him not to and walked to the wounded Harpy. He touched the arrow with the tip of his sword making wounded man to groan. 

"Mercy... I yield..." he said in Low Valyrian. 

"Mercy? You ask for mercy? Did she ask for mercy? When you were raping her? A girl of twelve? Did you relish in her screams? You must have. She was nothing more than a beast to you." 

"I was not there... I didn't..." man spoke with voice trembling from both pain and fear.

"But your friends were. Those now lying dead all around. Seven and twenty of you. What fool sends thirty men to attack a walled camp with eight score of men inside?" 

Man did not answer, only tried to crawl further away. He needed not to answer. Jon laid a trap for the Sons of the Harpy. During all that day and the day before he was sending out large patrols, numbering two or three dozen men. He knew that Company of the Wolf is being watched by the enemy. His men were not returning in the same numbers, but one or two riders at a time, five at the most, using all the gates there were on this once fighting pit. At the same time, others were leaving. Some even came on foot, dressed as once slaves, pretending to bring food and water for the sellswords. He did all he could to confuse those who were keeping watch and counting his men and with sunset he was certain their numbers were utterly wrong. To make Sons of the Harpy even bolder, Jon sent only one third of the usual number of guards on the walls. When the night came he only needed to wait. 

"Your name?" he asked the man on the ground.

"Mazles Shezhe..." 

"Are you of noble family, of masters?" 

"No..." Son of the Harpy replied. "And yet you fight for them..." 

"I fight for Meereen... Meereen free of foreign scum... " he hissed at Jon.

"And now you will die, but not for Meereen, you will die a fool fighting for those that are now sleeping in their pyramids while you bleed here in the sand." 

Jon walked away not waiting to see how spear ends the life of Mazles Shezhe. Instead he called one of his serjeants, Belo Ostios of Valysar and told him:

"We shall display these dead men at the main gate of this pit. Someone will recognize them surely, mayhaps even their own families will come to claim the bodies. If so, let them do it. What matters is that we learn where homes of these men are." 

"Captain...?" Belo asked.

"We shall come to their homes, throw their families on the street with only that much belongings as they can carry and burn their houses down. Then they will be banished from the city with only as much food and water to last them a day."

"Yes, captain. It will be done so... Those we throw out from the city will not live long..." 

"They will. Mouth of Skahazadhan is filled with ships from New Ghis, Tolos, Volantis, even Qarth waiting for fresh slaves. If Sons of the Harpy love slavery that much, their families can enjoy it firsthand. But not here in Meereen." 

"A befitting measure, captain." Belo agreed. 

"That masked filth has no honor, so we shall not treat them with honor. They offer no mercy, so they shall receive none." Jon said with stern, cold voice.

Ostios nodded in agreement, then he went to bark orders at his men. 

Afternoon of the next day had smoke rising over southern part of the city. Company of the Wolf did as Jon has ordered them. Upon seeing displayed corpses of Sons of the Harpy, once slaves recognized most of them and soon sellswords came to their homes. All of the dead were common folk of Meereen, some barely any wealthier than once slaves but still they fought against _silver whore_ which came to end the only way of life they have ever known. Their fight on the side of once masters ended with their families being driven out of their humble homes which were then set ablaze. Jon's men escorted over six scores of men, women and children, now homeless, to the city gates. 

"That was cruelty, my prince." Ser Barristan told him as he came to the Great Pyramid that evening.

"It was, yes. Cruelty. For I believe cruelty must be met with cruelty. We're facing men who mock honor and see mercy as weakness. If that is the battle they want to fight, that is the battle they shall get." Jon told him.

"It is not battle that you offer them.." Selmy said with barely concealed disgust.

Jon's eyes narrowed: "I want Sons of the Harpy to choose. Do they hate children of once slaves more than they love their own... it was easy for them to prey on freedmen and their families knowing their families are safe. Now they're not anymore." 

"You hope to break them by doing the same they do?" old knight asked. "No, I hope to break them by doing even worse." Jon replied. Then he asked: "What of Mossador?" 

"Her Grace ordered for him to be executed tomorrow at noon." Ser Barristan said. Jon shrugged.

"You do not approve, my prince?" "Executing him will gain her little favor among once slaves." 

"While you're becoming their hero. One that brings fire and blood to Sons of the Harpy." 

"I bring them what they deserve. Ser Barristan." he replied and nodded to the commander of Queensguard before leaving. 

Jon did not want to attend the execution of Mossador. Once slave broke the law by taking the law in his hands, that was plain. It was also plain how this was a great test for Daenerys, will she punish the murderer accordingly or will she be lenient and throw him in chains. Former would appease the nobles, latter the freedmen, but latter would also work in favor of queen's enemies for it would prove that she does not treat the crimes of once slaves same as the crimes of once masters. Mossador could not keep his head on the shoulders, Jon knew that well.

It all took place in the gardens beneath the Great Pyramid, the same place where she ordered one hundred and sixty-three masters nailed to mileposts right upon taking of Meereen. Today, crowds have also gathered. With rows of Unsullied separating them, freedmen and nobles filled the place. Men and women in tokars and other garments telling of their birth stood silent, while those who were property of those in fancy clothes chanted _Mhysa, mhysa_ reaching with their arms towards her. Jon walked behind the queen, Missandei, Ser Barristan, Grey Worm and Hizdahr. _Zokla vala,_ he heard passing by and saw approving looks of once slaves. _Wolf man._ It was not his Stark ancestry that get him that name among Meereenese smallfolk, they knew nothing of great houses of Westeros, but white furred wolf size of a pony at his side. Jon's reprisal over Sons of the Harpy in southern parts of the city brought him admiration of freedmen and hatred of those in tokars. Even Hizdahr did not try to hide it. 

"She should have cut the traitor's head in the Great Pyramid and be done with it." head of House Loraq spoke to Ser Barristan. 

"I wasn't aware that Mossador was declared a traitor... Murderer yes, but it's hardly a treason to kill the Son of a Harpy." Jon said. 

"Or to burn their homes and drive their families at spear point..." Hizdahr replied.

"No, that is not treason either." Jon grinned back at him.

Daenerys began to talk to the gathered crowd in High Valyrian: "You opened your gates to me, because I promised you freedom and justice." She paused, then Jon heard her saying: "Mēre mijegon se tolie sagon daor." ( _One cannot exist without the other)_

After she said those words, two of the Unsullied and two Dothraki came down the stone stairway, leading chained Mossador on the platform where Daenerys and rest of her court was. As they were passing through the gathered former masters, some tried to hit Mossador, but were pushed back by shields of the eunuch soldiers. From the other side of gardens, once slaves started yelling "Brother! Brother!" The Unsullied made a shield wall around the garden terrace from all sides, while two Dothraki made Mossador to kneel. He spoke to Daenerys right away: "Myhsa, please. Forgive me." 

She heard his words, but spoke to those gathered in the gardens: "A citizen of Meereen was awaiting trial and this man murdered him." Next she said in stern voice: "Qilōnarion morghon issa." ( _The punishment is death.)_

From all the sides where once slaves were standing, loud pleads "Mercy! Mercy!" were heard. The opposing side, once masters, stood in silence, waiting to see Mossador executed. Daenerys nodded to one of her Dothraki and he stepped behind the chained man placing arakh on his neck. Pleads to her for sparing Mossador's life become louder and louder, he also looked an her and said "Myhsa..." but as no response came from her, he began to pray, it was near whisper. "Mercy! Mercy!" pleads were almost deafening. Queen then made a barely visible gesture to her bloodrider and she swung his curved blade. As Mossador's body fell, lone shout _Myhsa_ was heard. 

A brief moment of silence, followed by hissing from the gathered freedmen, growing louder so that Unsullied pointed their spears towards both sides of the crowd, once owners and once owned. Then stone came from the ranks of freedmen and struck one among the nobles. Soon both sides of the crowd were pushing the soldiers that were separating them, for they wanted to fight, fight with their bare hands, to tear each other apart. 

Ser Barristan and Grey Word lead the queen away from the terrace as nobles and freedmen charged at each other, stones flew around. The Unsullied covered Daenerys with their shields as she was leaving the pyramid gardens, with freedmen throwing stones at that shield cover. It was mayhem on all sides. Jon walked away, passing by the once slaves, who paid no heed to him as they were not all charging at the once masters on the other side of wooden terrace. 

He came to queen's apartment hours later, it was already night. When he saw Ser Barristan standing watch together with Grey Worm, he knew that even here, many hundred feet above the chaotic city, they feared someone could come after Daenerys.

"Ser Barristan, Torgo Nudho..." he greeted them.

"We were expecting you earlier, Prince Aegon." Selmy told him. 

"I went to my company's barracks to oversee their preparations for tonight. Meereen is boiling. And truthfully, I am not certain that even once slaves would not attack queen's men now." 

"We shall defend our queen from all who would harm her." Grey Worm declared in High Valyrian.

"Bona nyke gīmigon..." Jon told him how he knows that "...still freedmen are not her or your enemy. Former masters are." 

"I can tell, my prince, how nothing would give you more pleasure than banishing one of noble families from Meereen and putting their pyramid to torch." Ser Barristan noted.

"Pyramids do not burn well. Too much stone. Yet knowing some of Aegon's Conquest, I say dragonflame would do to pyramids the same what it did to Harrenhall." Jon answered.

"Queen's dragons are not that grown yet... and she would never use them..." 

"Trust me, Ser Barristan, she would. And she will if need arises." 

"It may not be so, my prince. Her Grace locked two dragons in this pyramid." old knight told him.

Jon frowned: "When?" "Right after the execution of Mossador..." Queensguard answered.

He shook his head: "Dragon queen without dragons is same as Ser Barristan Selmy without sword." 

"I saw Drogon." she said to him, excited, the moment he entered her chambers.

"Where?" he asked. "On the apex, he made a brief landing there. And then he left again." 

"Dragons are wise creatures, Dany, and I trust Drogon could sense his brothers being locked away." 

She sighed: "You disapprove, I can see it in your eyes. I always can tell what you think or feel by your eyes." 

"Yes. I disapprove. You cannot afford to lose all the advantages you have over your enemies." 

"All advantages?" she asked, though it was plain to him that she knows what he meant.

"Your dragons. The love of freedmen." 

"You would not have Mossador executed in my place, is that what you're telling me?" 

"I most likely would. He broke the law. Would I've done it in public, that is another matter. Thus, you have angered once slaves and gain no favor with masters." 

"And you? I know what you've been doing last few days. Throwing whole families on the streets, then burning their homes. Because some of those family were Sons of the Harpy." 

"Aye. And I intend to continue doing so. Sons of the Harpy, save their leaders which hide behind thick pyramid walls, are common folk, not owning much more than once slaves. I want them to learn the hardest possible way what it means to raise arms against you. Message is plain, fight for restoration of slavery, loose your home. After a while, many of these commoners will think twice before fighting for rich noblemen who do not fight for them." 

"What is to gain with such reprisals? Against whole families, some mayhaps don't even know that their husbands or sons or brothers have joined the Sons of the Harpy." 

"Some do not, yes. But most do. And what I want to gain is for masters who command or fund these masked shits to lose their soldiers, then they'll have to join the fray themselves. First highborn of Meereen caught or killed as Son of the Harpy will bring his family the same fate - banishment with their home taken from them. No matter how tall their pyramid is, they will lose it." 

"I can't say I know much of history of Westeros, but noble families oft defied their liege lords or even kings, at risk of losing lands and titles." Daenerys said.

"This is not Westeros. Great Masters of Meereen will never oppose you head on. Not until they're certain they can defeat you. Until that day, they try to bleed you slow with this shadow war. I will not let that happen. You should not either."

"What you do is ruthless. And necessary. I will not stop you, Jon. But, should you capture a highborn Son of the Harpy, bring him to me. I will have him beheaded as I have Mossador today."

"Gladly, Dany. Now, I want to speak of Rhaegal and Viserion..." 

She got up from the table they were sitting at and paced toward the terrace: "It pains me, Jon, it pains me greatly to have them in chains in this pyramid... I am their mother. But Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was Hazzea... I will never have a little girl. I will never be a mother of living child." 

He shook his head: "You've chosen to believe what Lhazareen witch told you years ago... and again I say you've being foolish to believe her. You have a gentle heart when it comes to children and others who are too weak to defend themselves, you may deny it as much as you want but you have a good, gentle heart. And I love that gentle heart. But, our enemies using that against you." 

"What are you saying? That I should let my heart to harden? Not to care for little children anymore?" she looked at him, displeased.

"No, Dany. I want you to stay just as you are. But even if Drogon had burned that poor girl, which I am not entirely certain, it was not right to punish Rhaegal and Viserion for it." 

She let out a deep breath: "I want you to go with me to see them. Mayhaps two Targaryens can figure out how to control two dragons better than Targaryen alone. Without chains."

Jon chuckled which made her frown: "What?" 

"I wonder what would Targaryen kings of old who had so much knowledge of dragons, but no dragons say if they were to see us now. Three dragons and two Targaryens with not much knowledge of them." 

She looked at him with seriousness: "Then young Targaryens have no other but to learn for themselves, no matter what the old scrolls say." 


	19. BERON

_Astapor, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**BERON**

_“Are you hungry, child?”_

He grew to like Astapor, save its red dust. One should not build a city and everything in it with red bricks and then let it to decay. And red bricks were everywhere he looked. Pyramids were made of it, fighting pits, squares, fountains... every damn thing.

 _Bricks and blood built Astapor, and bricks and blood her people._ Beron found this saying stupid and having not much sense. What had every sense was notion that city must strengthen its defenses. Siege laid by Second Sons has proven it. It was over now, with Daario Naharis dead and all his lieutenants staying in Meereen as guests of Mother of Dragons, though one could call them hostages without being wrong, two thousand strong sellsword company soon fell apart. Only few remained loyal to their now dead commander and those rode off to Yunkai to honor his accord with them. Largest part of them went to Meereen to join with their lieutenants there which meant they were returning into service of Daenerys Targaryen. Those not willing to make long rides, some four hundred of them, remained beneath the walls of the red city and sent a letter to the council of Astapor, counting seven.

"Accept their services, but do not let them inside the city in groups larger than twenty." Beron advised councilors. 

"No matter what they claim of themselves, Second Sons shift their allegiances with ease. Astapor must be wary of them.  
Luckily, there is one thousand Unsullied here still."

"That will keep us safe." one of the councilors said.

"It will from the few hundred Second Sons. But, the Unsullied are needed more in Meereen and even one thousand of them could not be enough to make some Dothraki khal to turn away from the city." 

Gamassa Garduz's eyes widened: "Are we to be attacked by the horselords?" 

"You will be if their scouts and spies bring word of a city in disorder, city that cannot man its own walls for its people's strength waists fighting among themselves." Beron replied.

"It all could come to pass when Unsullied leave for Meereen." another of the council said.

"Yes. It could. But it will not if you are to form a city guard, host of Astapor made of free men and not gelded slaves.  
And you must began forming it hastily." 

"How much time do we have?" Gamassa asked.

"You still have enough time. You have the Unsullied in Astapor, they will remain here for a moon or two.  
Man the walls, build catapults and scorpions. Show strength. Even if it will be a mummer's show for a while." Beron said.

"Why would Dothraki attack us now? Last time they have done so was in days of my grandfather's father."  
The man who said this was Ardil mo Dheze, who sat on the council for those in Astapor who were free men but never owned slaves.

"Mayhaps in days of your great-grandfather, Astapor was not willing to gift them well enough in return for the gift of the slaves they brought to the city." Beron told him.

"I understand. They will mislike us not willing to trade with slaves anymore." Ardil concluded.

"They might. Yet, should they see your walls well guarded, their mislike will remain only that. A mislike they cannot do much about. You know what you must do." 

"Seven halfwits..." Beron said to Eliar Sand as they walked away from the great pyramid of Astapor "...well, four halfwits and three clever ones, though I still cannot tell them apart."

"Captain Jon meant well when he had them elect this council." Dornishman said.

"He did. What he could not know is what sort of people will they elect. Halfwits. But, then again, that butcher named Cleon killed many clever men of this city while others have joined him and perished along with him. Astapor will have to make do with these seven...  
You have mentioned a ship...?"

"Yes, lord Beron. I've seen all sorts of ships but purple... never. Her hull is painted purple and purple are her sails too." 

"It is Braavosi vessel then. I wonder how oft have ships from First Daughter called here in the past.  
Braavosi and slavery never fared well, no matter how gold, silver and trade make men to forsake what they believe in." Pentoshi Stark said. 

"Why they have come to Astapor now?" Eliar wondered.

"Word of slavery no longer reigning here has spread across the world. Though I do not trust mere curiosity brought these Braavosi here.  
What is this ship called?" 

"Titan's Daughter, my lord." 

Ship was truly coated in purple. _Titan's Daughter_ was made for high seas, she had three masts and double bank of oars. Her captain was a man who introduced himself as Ternesio Terys. A true image of Braavosi seafarer, his face bore marks of sun and wind, both his curly hair and trimmed beard had more gray than black now. Beron found him giving orders to his men, it was plain they have come here to trade as they have soon scattered along the quay seeking merchants.

"It's a rare sight these days, a ship from Braavos in Slaver's Bay." he said to Ternesio.

"It was not so common before either. One can load it's decks with many things in Astapor or Meereen, yet what they were selling most of all was living merchandise, chained and collared."

"Braavos trades with other Free Cities, they all have slaves..." Beron reminded him.

"They do. Yet only here they are bred in thousands... Tell me, my lord, how it come to pass for a Pentoshi nobleman to command the red city?" Ternesio asked.

Beron pointed at the large black banner above the harbor gate, a tall mast was placed where once statue of the harpy stood. 

"Yes, when I saw those colors it confirmed all I've heard sailing here, from Myr to Volantis, they speak of a young dragon queen which broke all the masters from here to Meereen. They speak of her cruel ways as well." 

"They do? What they say?" Beron asked, grinning. 

"Many stories claim of her feeding slavers to her dragons, other accounts mention her nailing men to wooden posts or burning them alive..." 

Beron nodded: "Indeed, some of it is true. Most of it is not. Dragon broke the harpy and sons of the harpy now lament half across the world, telling lies..." 

He stopped talking as he saw a girl coming ashore from the ship, she walked cautiously down the plank of _Titan's Daughter,_  
looking left and right. She was dressed as a boy, her hair was cut short, but she was a girl. And her face left Beron without words.

"Who is that?" he asked the Braavosi captain. "A passenger." Ternesio replied dryly, it did not escape Beron how his features became stern in a heartbeat. 

"A passenger from where?" he asked next.  
"It is not mine to tell from where she come nor where she goes." captain said, then made a slight bow and returned to his affairs. 

"We shall speak again, captain Terys, before you leave Astapor. I will require a list of the cargo you load here, in detail." 

"It will be done so, my lord." 

"You had no right to arrest me." girl protested, sitting at the other side of the table, beneath the canvas shade on the Plaza of Pride where Beron, same as his kinsman, had placed his command. Two of his men stood at each side of his captive and one more was behind her back, aiming crossbow at her. 

"In truth, I do. Those which come from the other side of the world, armed with blades to lurk about, are my concern. Safest way is to have them arrested." 

"I am travelling on _Titan's Daughter_ to Braavos, I came ashore to take a walk on firm ground after many weeks on the sea." she defended herself.

"Have you not seen the banner that waves over the harbor?" Beron told her.

"I have. What of it?" she hissed back. "Whose banner is it?" he asked.

"Dragon of red color with three heads. House Targaryen." girl replied.

"Yes, that is true. And House Targaryen has a lot of enemies in Westeros, that is from where you are coming, right? Mayhaps you're an assassin, sent by those which rule in King's Landing." 

"I've told you and your fools who brought me here. I come from Saltpans, by the Trident. I don't give two shits about those who rule in King's Landing." 

"And your name is Salty... Salty from Saltpans... what a jape..." Beron grinned at her "...girl, do you take me for a fool?" 

"My name is Salty..." she insisted.

"Enough!" he said loudly "...you are of the North. You speak as Northerners do. And you look as Northerners do. You look as..." 

He sighed which made her frown, then he took her weapon, a small, slender blade and looked at it from all sides. 

"A castle forged steel. With a smith's mark on it... where did you steal this sword? And from whom?" 

"I did not! It's mine! Needle was a gift." she protested loudly. 

Beron's face changed that very moment: "Needle? A befitting name for such thin blade... Needle... tell me, girl, how old are you?" 

"I'll be four and ten this year." she said shrugging. "And your name is...?"

"I am Salty..."

"Yes... you are Salty of Saltpans. Well, we shall do it the other way, then..." he said, and then began to unbutton his leather jerkin, which made her frown even more. 

"My father was Eyron, born and raised in Pentos..." he took of the jerkin, revealing the upper part of grey tunic underneath, with a sigil on his right chest which made her eyes to widen "...his father was Rodrik who sired two daughters with a wife he took after my mother, one of them was Lyarra, my half-aunt, she married Rickard who was my second cousin. They had four children... Brandon, Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen..." 

Girl was looking at him, her mouth was open and she was breathing heavily. Beron could see that she knows who he is.

"My name, Salty of Saltpans, is Beron Stark. And your age, your face and the name of your sword... all tell me that we share blood.  
So, girl, I will ask you one last time... what is your name?" 

She swallowed hard before answering: "My name is Arya Stark of Winterfell, lord Eddard Stark was my father..."  
Beron nodded contently and smiled at her: "You look very much like your aunt Lyanna."

Then he got up, walked to her and embraced her tightly it surprised her: "Gods be good, child, Jon and I both thought you were dead for years." "Jon is here?" she asked with trembling voice, still keeping her arms to herself.

"He is in Meereen." Beron told her, then he parted embrace which she did not return and cupped her chin with his hand:  
"You are a Stark, through and through... are you hungry, Arya?" 

"I broke fast on the ship..." He shook his head: "That will not do. You will dine with me, food worthy of a lady..."  
Her eyes narrowed: "I am not a lady." 

"Well, little cousin, I am not much of lord either, but I was born so, same as you were born as a lady." 

"Is that a dragonbone bow?" she asked pacing around his chamber in the largest pyramid of Astapor.

"It is." he replied calmly, eating his mutton. 

"My father told me a story of our kinsman from across the sea who was the best archer in Seven Kingdoms." 

"I was then, yes." Beron said proudly. 

"Will you let me use it?" she asked next. "That depends." he replied.

"On what?" she asked impatiently.

"On you finishing your meal, to begin with. And on your plans." 

"My plans?" Arya wondered. "As I understood, you are sailing to Braavos." 

"I came aboard _Titan's Daughter_ in Westeros and they've told me that after they make their journey to Volantis they'll be sailing back to Braavos. In Volantis, captain learned of Targaryen queen ending slavery in Astapor... so he came here. I wanted to see Astapor as well." 

"Why Braavos?" he asked as she sat back at the table and continued eating. 

"I rather not answer, if that is all right." Arya said carving her meat. "You need not to..." Beron told her softly "...look at me, child." 

"I am not a child. Soon I'll be woman grown." she said lifting her gaze to meet with his.

"Two years are not so soon... You have grey eyes, eyes of our kin, but I can tell that your eyes have seen things no one your age should see. Am I right?" 

She remained silent for a while, then she nodded: "I've seen the Red Wedding. I've seen my brother's corpse with the head of his direwolf stitched to it, instead of his own." Knife scrapped on the plate as she was telling this. 

Beron cursed aloud: "Freys will pay for this. And Boltons. And Lannisters, though it seems they've been paying for it already.  
That bastard boy king and his grandsire are both dead." 

"They were on my list." she said with ice cold voice. "What list?" "The list of men I am going to kill." ice cold voice replied. 

"You have killed already. More than one man. More than two. Your eyes speak of it clearly." Beron told her in even tone.  
"I have only killed those who deserve it." she answered.

"You need not to justify yourself to me, Arya Stark... eat, girl, for one that will soon be four and ten, you're too skinny." 

"What gave me away?" she asked between bites.

"Little cousin, you take after Lyanna. I loved her as she were my true sister. You have true Stark looks..."

"Everybody said Lyanna was beautiful. Not as me." 

"And I say you look as you were her own daughter. You will grow into true Northern beauty..."  
She shrugged, but he could tell that girl likes his words.

Beron continued. "...then your sword. Mikken was a young smith when I was in Winterfell, he made a dagger for me with same mark your blade has. And, of course, when you said it is called Needle. Jon told me that story many times." 

Smile appeared on girl's face for the first time: "How is Jon? I want to see him..." 

"You will. Soon enough. He will burst of joy when he sees you... unless you're continuing your voyage to Braavos."

Arya remained silent for a heartbeat. "I want to learn how to use that bow of yours." she said next.

"All right, I will teach you archery. Jon told me that you were decent at it." 

"I was very good." she countered. "Let me be the judge of that." he replied.  
She nodded: "And I want to learn more on how to use a sword." 

"Any more requests, lady Arya of House Stark?" "I will not wear a dress, lord Beron of House Stark. Never." she answered. 

"You have your aunt's temper, indeed. I liked her for it. And I trust I will like you as well. Very well then, archery, swordplay, man's clothes. You will wear the same garments men of my company wear. And a Stark sigil on your chest, same as me. Understood?"

She nodded, looking at him with narrow eyes. Then he said more: "I'll even have the Unsullied to teach you how to use spear and shield."

"You will?" she blurted in wonder, giving him a warm gaze at last.

"I will. You are my kin and I will keep you by my side. Forget Braavos, girl. You're staying here." 

"Company of the Wolf... I reckon this is nearest to home that I have ever been in last two years..." raven-haired girl said pensively.

"I trust your father told you the saying... the lone wolf dies..."

"...but the pack survives." she finished it. 

"You have found your pack, little Arya. Now, eat. You must put more weight before you can draw the dragonbone bow." 

She agreed and continued eating. When she was done, Arya put down her knife and fork, then she looked at him again. 

"Ask." Beron said. Girl lifted her eyebrows. "Yes, I can tell you want to know something, so ask." he told her.

"Was Jon with you all this time?" Beron smiled: "Yes, he was. He is a captain in this company now. A true leader of men." 

"And he is in Meereen now? Where dragon queen is? Is it true she has three living dragons?" 

"It is. I've seen them as I see you now. Three dragons. Not yet fully grown, but growing each day." 

"And they breathe fire?" was her next question. He liked her asking this, those were questions which proved that despite all she has been through, all that she has seen, Arya was still a curious child.

"They do. When they feed, they first burn the meat." Then came her next question: "Do they burn the enemies of Targaryen queen?" 

"As far as I know, one of her dragons burned a slaver on that same plaza where you were brought before me.  
Her dragons are not big enough yet to be used in a battle. But they grow. Dragons never stop growing."

"I saw skulls of Targaryen dragons beneath the Red Keep... one was so large I swear an aurochs whole could fit inside its jaws." she said, recalling it in her mind.

"Well, these dragons still have heads that are not larger than horse's head." 

"Will I get to meet the Targaryen queen?" Arya asked. "Of course you will. And you will get to meet a Targaryen prince as well." 

"There is a dragon prince??" 

"Yes. And meeting him will bring you great joy, Arya Stark of Winterfell." 


	20. DRAGON PRINCE

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**DRAGON PRINCE**

_"When he was born they named him for a hero who had died too young..."_

Ironborn hand axe. Few moons ago Jon would see using one as near affront. Now, in city of Meereen, where he fought against elusive foe, hand axe served him better than longsword. This battle was not fought on the open field, but in narrow alleys, in winesinks, in warehouses, in stables and in brothels. Sons of the Harpy would emerge in the light to slay freedmen, the Unsullied on patrol or sellswords drinking in taverns, then disappear back into darkness. Their attacks were plain butchery. Jon met their cruelty with his own. First, he had families of those fighting under mask of the harpy banished from the city. Then he decided to make another move.

Jon sent criers with drums, escorted by the Unsullied, on all sides of the city. Their task was to bring word to the people what will punishment will fall upon those who give shelter to the Sons of the Harpy. Punishment was that every owner of tavern, inn, warehouse or stable where Queen's men at arms or freedmen were attacked will be stripped of his ownership and thrown outside the walls of Meereen. The very next day, punishment was administered to first three innkeepers where Sons of the Harpy have attacked once slaves. They were given two hours to leave the city, their inns were sealed until being offered to freedmen who were once slaves in taverns or cupbearers.

"Sons of the Harpy would not have a chance to ambush Queen's men in winesinks if owners weren't conspiring with them. We shall have different owners and our soldiers will have safety no matter if they're bedding whores or watering their horses."

Jon spoke to his officers and those of the Unsullied as Grey Worm was at Great Pyramid by Daenerys' side.

"Harpy has wings. But her sons do not fly. Once we remove the ground from underneath them, they will end on their arses..." he continued "...that ground are commoners wearing masks, that ground are all the places whose owners let those masked shits to come through back door or secret passages and slay our men in craven's manner. It ends now. I truly do not care if every single innkeeper in Meereen is thrown outside the city gates, him and his family with him."

"What will happen once that ground is removed, captain?" one of his lieutenants asked.

"Then we shall go after those that hide inside the pyramids. What I want from all of you is to get me a highborn Son of the Harpy. Alive. Wounded, maimed, but not dead. I want him alive. And then we shall have a family of once masters banished from Meereen. Every single member of that noble house."

"Captain, all those Harpy cunts wear masks and are dressed the same. How shall we know a highborn Son of the Harpy from the lowborn one?" Belo Ostios asked.

"Highborn will never be in the van of fighting. Nobles here are not as those from where I come from. For most, fighting is equally beneath them as any other hard work. You'll know which Son of the Harpy is of noble blood." 

He was determined to break the Sons of the Harpy and this campaign kept him apart from Dany for nearly a sennight. Jon was certain she will understand him not spending nights in the Great Pyramid with her, his nights were now spent in hunting down her enemies. In seven days, he has seen her only once. He was commanding an army that was fighting a cruel war and his place was with his men. That one time he came to Daenerys to report how two once slaves that have joined the ranks of Company of the Wolf as auxiliary force were spies, working for their once masters.

"You're not men, but dogs. And you will be hanged as dogs. I will not have you buried either, you'll be thrown into Slaver's Bay as fish food. Your families banished from Meereen, but banished with no food, water and clothes. They will end up outside the city naked, every single one, from babes to toothless crones. Unless you tell me, who is the Great Master you work for. Do so and we shall leave them be and your death will come by sword. Your families will be allowed to bury you." he told them.

One refused to betray his masters, remaining loyal slave till the end. He was hanged on the inland gates of the city and ordered to remain hanging for a fortnight before his corpse will be thrown into the sea. His family saw him there as they were marched out from the city by the Unsullied, stripped of all their belongings, in their nameday suits, having no other but to flee to the nearest slave ship from Volantis or New Ghis that was looming around the mouth of Skahazadhan, to save themselves by taking collar again.

Other spy, seeing the fate of the first one and fate of that man's kin, was far less willing to see his family suffer the same and he told Jon for whom he was spying.

"House of Zhak... Zikhar mo Zhak... he is the son of Hizdoz who was nailed to the wooden post by silver queen, Zikhar is now head of the house and he is my master. And he leads Sons of the Harpy in east Meereen."

"In east Meereen..." Jon asked "...who leads all of them? All the Harpy's Sons?"

"I do not know." spy replied. "Does Zikhar know?" was Jon's next question.

"I trust he does, yes... when you kill me, will my family be left to live in Meereen as free men?"

"They will. Unlike those you serve as an uncollared slave, I am not a liar.”

Jon knew he was actions were ruthless and cruel. He did not enjoy doing it and not once he questioned in his mind was there another way. Then faces of slave children nailed to the mileposts would come before his eyes same as faces of children that were once slaves, children that have briefly tasted freedom only to be butchered by masked killers. Those faces told him there was no other way. Those faces in his mind smiled at him when rage overcome him so that he has beaten one Son of the Harpy to the death with his bare hands or that time when he impaled one on the spear and lifted him from almost three feet from the ground. His rage made him almost inhumanly strong and he oft wondered was this that wolf blood Beron spoke about… or was it blood of the dragon awakened. Or both… _Zokla vala… zaldrīzes dārilaros…_ Wolf man and dragon prince, that is how he was known in Meereen now. Those in pyramids called him _Vesterozia dyni_. Westerosi monster. He could not care less.

“There are more spies in ranks of freedmen that have join us. They will surely report to that Zikhar mo Zhak of us knowing he was one of Harpy’s commanders. I want him to know…” Jon told Belo Ostios after he beheaded the second spy.

“He will try to flee from Meereen, captain.”

“Yes, that he will. Have you placed our men to watch pyramid of Zhak?”

“I have, once slaves that are loyal to us and silver queen. They can move around that pyramid without making Zhaks to be suspicious.”

“When they report you of Zikhar leaving his home, be it day or night, gather our men, no less than two scores of them and go after him, if he tries to leave the city, arrest him right away. It is well known that all former Great Masters must ask queen’s leave before travelling outside the city. He will not have that leave so you will bring him to me.

For questioning. One that Zikhar will not enjoy.”

“Captain, if we’re to torture a noble captive…”

“I am not going to torture him. I will throw his family outside the city walls, just as naked as family of that spy was. Imagine, once rich slavers with their bare balls and tits looking for a nearest slave trader to save them… Zikhar will not allow that to happen. He will betray his companions and… what matters the most… his commanders.”

“And if he does not?” Belo asked.

“I’ll let his former property to break a finger or two on his hands. And to flog him from head to toe.”

When Zikhar mo Zhak was brought before him, Jon thought a mistake was made. Man was three or four years older than him, plump and soft, looking more as a scribe than as head of the great house of Meereen. His skin was amber, same as most of Ghiscari, but it had a yellowish shade. Zikhar was irked for being halted on his way out of the city, that much was plain, though it seemed to Jon he was trying to hide his fear behind the mask of a man annoyed.

“Why I am here? You owe me an explanation.” Zikhar asked in rather fluent Common Tongue with the lilted accent of Slaver’s Bay.

“I do not. Things are self-explanatory, lord Zikhar, you were about to leave the city in the middle of the night. Which is not allowed, as you well know. What is more, you as once Great Master are obliged to obtain a permission from the Queen to leave the city. Have you obtained it, per chance? There was no such document found on you or your escort?” Jon told him.

“No. I have not.” man sad dryly.

“So, you tried to flee from Meereen under cover of the dark. Why?”

“We have estates in the hills, orchards, vineyards… I wanted…”

“You wanted to inspect your estates…” Jon grinned at him “…it was a matter of such urgency that it had to be done before sunrise unbeknownst to anyone.”

Dark-haired Targaryen leaned back in his chair: “Zikhar mo Zhak, spare both your time and mine, do not speak any more of this tale, tale which child would not believe. Truth is you were running away. Leaving your family and your pyramid behind. Question is from whom? From me and other Queen’s men? Or mayhaps from your fellow Sons of the Harpy?”

“I have nothing… I am not a Son…” Zikhar tried to deny, but Jon cut him:

“You are. And you know that I know this. You know that your once slave, one who was beheaded three days ago told us so, to save his family from banishment. And you know that leaders of your masked host know that your secret is no more. Was your fear of them killing you so that you could not betray them another reason of your failed escape from the city?”

“You must be mad! Mad for saying these things. I have nothing to do with Sons of the Harpy.” Zikhar spoke in excited voice, his face reddened.

Jon nodded: “My grandfather was indeed a madman. And some other in the line of my father’s forebearers. From the line of my mother, I inherit a tradition of cruel dealing with men who are liars, cravens and have no honor. That, lord Zikhar mo Zhak, puts you in not so favorable place. If you continue to lie to my face, this is what will follow…”

He leaned menacingly towards once slaver:

“…House of Zhak, every single man, woman and child, will be driven out from your pyramid, stripped bare and led down the city streets to the inland gates where they will be banished from Meereen. Before sundown of that same day, they will end up chained on some slave ship from Volantis or even Qarth and their noble birth will mean nothing. You, you will remain here to be questioned. There are some once slaves of House Zhak here with us and your lord father was a cruel master, a vicious beast indeed, known to cut off nipples from any woman slave who displeased him and geld boys and men who were better endowed than he was… well, those once slaves have already asked me to allow them to whip you naked from your neck down and to burn your manhood. I will grant them those wishes. Should you insist on your lies. Do not try my resolve, Zikhar mo Zhak, do not fool yourself that you being of noble house will stop me from doing all that you were told.”

Zikhar mo Zhak looked at him with wide eyes and Jon could tell how terror of what he was just told is slowly, but surely overtaking him.

“My lord… Prince… do not do this to my family. My mother is almost seventy namedays old, shame of being marched naked through the streets will kill her on the spot and my youngest daughter is not even five yet… she will end in a brothel… do not do this. Torture me as much as you want, but leave them be.”

“Their fate lies entirely in your hands. Not mine. You decide the future of House of Zhak.” Jon replied coldly.

“Tell me what you want of me…” Zikhar asked next.

“Names. Names of those you were running from into your hill estates. After you tell me, you will be taken to Great Pyramid and locked there as highborn captive. Your family shall remain in your home, guarded by Queen’s men, for I am certain your _friends_ under masks will try to take their revenge on those dearest to you. So, I want to hear names, Zikhar mo Zhak.”

It was eve of the next day when he rode into the ground level of the tallest pyramid of Meereen, one waving large dragon banner where statue of the harpy once stood. Jon came escorted by ten of his most trusted men, he knew that Sons of the Harpy would give abundant reward to a man or men who would free them of _Westerosi monster_. His escort did not follow him further than ground level of the pyramid for there were Unsullied on every corner. Jon left his horse in the stables and walked up the inner stairway, all the way to the top, where Daenerys' chambers were. He donned black breeches and tunic of same color with red borders and pale grey linen sleeveless jerkin over it. Targaryen and Stark colors.

"Prince Aegon..." Ser Barristan Selmy greeted him, standing watch at the entrance of Queen's apartment.  
"Ser Barristan..." Jon returned the greeting.

"I will inform Her Grace of your arrival. She was expecting you even sooner." 

"I wish I was here sooner, Ser, but war with Harpy's Sons suffers no delays."  
Old knight agreed: "That war has been going well thus far, you have removed their threat from south and east parts of the city." 

"That is smaller part of Meereen still. True task will be the rest, where most of pyramids of once masters are, where largest fighting pits are... there are lairs of our foes and their accomplices and servants." 

Selmy made three knocks on the door before entering the chamber. Soon he returned and gestured Jon to pass inside.

"Well, if it isn't Prince Aegon..." Daenerys said upon seeing him with smile and chiding look "...one could be forgiven for believing you have forgotten me." 

"What man can forget the Mother of Dragons...only a fool..." he said walking to her. Dany was dressed in her white-blue gown, with her silver tresses covering both her chest and back. Jon embraced her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Ēdrugī issi ao, zokla vala..." she japed at his soft touches "...I remember when you would tore this dress into shreds..." 

"I am not tired of making love to you, Dany, I will never be tired of that. But, there is a matter that cannot wait."  
In a heartbeat her face got stern and serious: "I am listening." 

"House of Dhazak, house of Hazkar, house of Merreq, house of Quazzar, house of Uhlez, house of Yherizan..." Jon nearly recited.

"All noble houses of Meereen." she said. "And all giving shelter and support to the Sons of the Harpy." he added.

"I had my doubts about most of families you've mentioned, but doubts are one thing. Your words sounded as accusation." 

"I am accusing them. All those names were given to me. Head of House of Zhak told me who his allies are. I assume you know he is my prisoner." 

Daenerys nodded, so he continued: "...and he gave me the name of one more family." 

"Which one is that?" she asked with narrowed eyes. 

"House of Loraq. Being most prominent among Harpy commanders." Jon said with even tone.  
"Jon, Hizdahr zo Loraq sits on my council, advises me on actions against the Sons of the Harpy." 

"I am sure he does. And should you propose for Zikhar mo Zhak to be publicly executed right away, same as Mossador was, Hizdahr will support it wholly." 

Dany looked at him agreeing: "Of course, that way it will seem how he supports my fight against Harpy's Sons.  
But what he will truly get is this Zikhar killed. He does not know that Zikhar has already betrayed them all ." 

"No one knows that. Save Zikhar and me. All others under my command, including enemy spies, believe that Zikhar is being held prisoner until he speaks. Should Hizdahr be the one rushing you to execute him, there is no better proof..."

"...of Hizdahr zo Loraq being the leader of Sons of the Harpy." Dany finished his thought. "That is right, Daenerys Stormborn." 

"I've missed you, Aegon Targaryen..." she said lifting an eyebrow "...are you staying with the woman you love this night or do you ponder of riding back to that fighting pit you call your barracks?" 

"I am staying, Dany. I had my fill of smell of sweat and dried blood... I want to bathe in that terrace pool with you."  
"And after we bathe?" she asked.

"You should not ask questions you already know answer to..." 

Jon was leaned on the edge of the pool, resting. Night was hot and water was pleasantly cool. Even more pleasing were soft kisses Dany placed on his neck and shoulders, her arms were around his chest. Her bare body touched his and he enjoyed it greatly, every time. It was as her warmth passed onto him and it made Jon feel as they were one. When he told her that, many weeks ago, she looked at him surprised and then said that it was the same for her. _Good, I thought my mind is playing tricks on me.._ Jon said then with her shaking head:  
_No, it does not. You and I are blood of the dragon. When our bodies meet... we share our heat and our fire._  
He chuckled: _Someone should put those words into verses and sing them..._

This night he was serious and pensive and as always Daenerys felt it right away: "What is it? You're here, naked in my arms but your mind wanders..." 

"I fear that I am losing myself in this war, Dany..." he sighed "...my true self... that fighting with these masked beasts is turning me into one.  
The man you've met in Yunkai would've never done things..." 

Her hand covered his mouth: "You are acting cruel, Jon, that is true. And that is unlike you. Same as it was unlike me to nail eight score of men to wooden posts, yet I gave the order. For it was right thing to do." 

"I know. I don't doubt myself, I don't question my actions...  
I fear only that what I do to our foes now could become the only manner in which I act. I does not take much for a man's heart to harden..."

Her arms around him tightened and she kissed his cheek: "You fear that Meereen will rob you of honor and mercy, for this is not a place of honor or mercy." 

Jon nodded: "I do. I deliver cruelty to those which deserve it. What if one day I shall be cruel to those which do not?"  
Dany sighed: "What if... don't trouble yourself with it, Jon, Meereen will not corrupt you. You'll always be able to tell right from wrong." 

"And you know that how?" he asked.  
"Because I've fallen in love with a bastard sellsword who had nothing but his honor and his mercy and knowledge what is right and what is not." 

"What happened to him?" Jon said, japing.  
"Oh... I've traded him for a Targaryen prince who tends to be somber as his father was..." Dany japed as well. 

"Still I think it was a fair trade..." Jon said, kissing her hand. "It was..." she agreed "...come, my prince, let us go to bed." 

Morning has found Jon lying in Queen's bedchamber. He opened his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the room, most of all the scents of his lover, but she was not at his side now, he was alone in the bed. There was plenty of light in the room which meant hours have passed since dawn. Jon got up and walked around the chamber, looking where Dany might have gone. Then he heard noises from her privy. Retching noises. 

"Dany... are you all right?" he asked upon knocking on the privy door.

"I am... leave me be..." she responded with irked voice. 

"You do not sound all right..." 

"Leave, Jon!" came loud answer which made him to step away from the door.  
He went back and sat down on the bed, waiting for her to come out of the privy. 

"You're not all right. I dare say you've retched your whole supper..." Jon said as she walked into the bedchamber "...do you have a food taster?" 

A chuckle escaped her, irking him even more: "That is not a laughing matter. Harpy's Sons have spies in our midst, they could try to poison you..." 

"This is not their doing, Jon. This... and that I hope with all my heart... is your doing..." she said sitting on the bed next to him "...oh, you cannot fathom how much I hope..."

Daenerys smiled at him and gave him a warm gaze, while he frowned: "What are you talking about?"

Silver-haired queen cupped his face with her hands, then she said: "What I am talking about, Aegon Targaryen, is that I could be with child. Our child." 

Jon's eyes widened: "What?" Dany nodded, her eyes watering: "I've been retching for days now... and my moonblood... I think I am with child." 

He looked at her, still befuddled, trying to find proper words... "I am going to be a father?" he blurted at last.

"Yes, Jon, I think you will." she sad before kissing him. "You must send for a maester to see you..." he said next.

"They don't have maesters here, Jon." she said with a laugh. "Then a healer or midwife... I don't know..." 

She sighed at his words: "I will not have anyone touching me before I am certain, before my belly swells.  
I did not even want to tell you yet... but when I heard you talk of poisoning..."

"Why would you hide something so... so joyful from me?? We shall have a babe..." Jon said embracing her. 

"You know why. I still fear that I might be mistaking." 

"Are you going to repeat the words of that witch again? Do not." he told her.  
"I will not. I will trust that our Lyaenys is growing inside me. Or our.. our Aemon."

"Aemon?" Jon asked with approving smile.  
"Well, Aemon the Dragonknight was your hero when you were a boy... if I am to bear you a son, his name will be Aemon." 

"Aye. Aemon Targaryen." Jon agreed. Then he added: "Or Lyaenys Targaryen. Prince or Princess of Seven Kingdoms."  
He smiled at the notion, but then mark of seriousness covered his face.

"Dany, we are not man and wife." "I know, I matters not..." she said shrugging.  
"It does. I will not have our child to be born out of wedlock. He or she will bear a Targaryen name. I want you to stand up." 

She listened to him and now was standing next to the bed. Jon stood up as well, but only to bend the knee.  
"Gods, Jon, if you're about to... we're both naked! How is this proper?" 

"I don't need clothes to propose you..." he replied and that made her laugh happily. 

He took her hand and looked straight in her violet eyes: "Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, I, Aegon of House Targaryen, ask your hand in marriage. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" 


	21. ARYA

_Astapor, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**ARYA**

_"Yes, it's you who ought to run..."_

"Pay attention, now, girl. I see you were taught the three-finger draw, as it is most common in Westeros, with arrow on the left side of the bow." she listened to Beron's voice on makeshift archery range in once Jothiel's Pit.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked, holding a double curved bow, same as he did.

"Nothing if you were to remain half trained in archery, but you will not. I intend to train you in archery of Essos. You have good longbow skills, but now you'll learn how to use double-curved bow, one that Dothraki use from horseback." 

"And Dornish too..." added Eliar Sand who was watching them from the shade. "Indeed... and Dornish too." Beron agreed.

"I will teach lady Arya how to shoot bow from a horse. Both from attack and from retreat." Eliar said. 

"From retreat?" she asked, frowning still at the word _lady._

"Yes, a skilled mounted archer can be deadly just the same when he rides away from the enemy. My grandsire's grandsire killed many Reachmen that way, when they came to conquer us with Young Dragon." 

"They did conquer you, as I recall..." Beron grinned. "They did, it cost them tens of thousands and it lasted for a summer." Sand answered with equal grin.

Beron shrugged, then said to Arya: "So when you shoot the arrow as most Westerosi do, you must make certain that it does not wobble too much... that you already know well. But, when you loose it from the right side of this bow and you use the thumb draw..." he released his arrow from the bow and hit the black circle drawn on the cowhide "...the bow moves out of the way from the arrow. Your left hand does that. And you'll find it useful when in the saddle."

"I want to try it when on the horse..." she said and that made him to chuckle: "You're days, if not sennights away from that. First, I'll teach you how to nock without looking at the arrows, only on the target. And that is the easiest when you put the arrow on the right side of the bow, drawing it with your thumb and forefinger. The way of the horse archer, right, serjeant?" 

"Yes, my lord." Eliar confirmed. "I can learn that... I'll be good at it." Arya said. Beron shook his head: "No, sweet cousin, you'll excel at it. You'll be able to shoot four or five arrows while you say _I am Arya of House Stark of Winterfell._ "

She frowned same as every time when he called her _sweet cousin_ and that amused Beron. Arya grew to like her Pentoshi kinsman in very short time. She knew that Jon and her were last of their family, all others were dead and Sansa was lost. Beron was her family now too, only one of Starks of Pentos she has met. From what Arya has learned of Beron's family they were noble ladies, all more akin to Sansa than her and going to live with them not once crossed her mind. 

"Which bow do you prefer, cousin Beron?" she asked him. 

"Well... longbow was my first weapon. My grandfather Rodrik brought couple of those with him, my father took a good care of them and since I was a boy I've practiced with the longbows that were made in Winterfell... later, when I've returned back to Pentos and began warring in Disputed Lands I've learned to use the curved bow." Beron told her.

"Lord Beron unhorsed a lieutenant of the Windblown that was over two hundred yards away. He planted arrow in his eye." came from Eliar.

"I did. With a double curved bow. And I killed one of your Dornish nobles at Trident, with a longbow, at hundred and fifty yards. He was yelling at his spearmen to charge at us. He should not have yelled and I'd never pay any heed to him." 

Arya was in Astapor for twenty days already. _Titan's Daughter_ sailed for Braavos with cargo of various goods and also with passengers, once slaves, who wanted to try their luck in the city founded by runaway slaves of Old Valyria. She stayed in the red city. Beron was her kinsman, he commanded a free company which bore white and grey colors, colors of her house. This was not Stark host, but it was closest thing to home Arya had in years. Beron saw to it that she has her own quarters with bath within the great pyramid of Astapor and her own guards of half a dozen men, but she refused to have her own handmaiden. On many things she and Beron first argued, then reached an accord. Pentoshi Stark liked her, she could tell that right away, yet she was not willing to allow him to act as he was fostering her. 

Whenever Beron had time, Arya asked him to speak of his days in Westeros. He knew her father when he was young man, her uncle Benjen and he also knew the Starks Arya never met, her grandparents, uncle Brandon and aunt Lyanna. Arya was sometimes told she resembles her. It was story of Lyanna that surprised Arya the most, it took some time for her to believe what she learned of young girl which died not much older than Arya was now.

Tale of kidnapping and rape was false. Tale of her father siring a bastard was false. Jon was not her half-brother, but her first cousin. And he was a Targaryen. In love with his father's sister. The Mother of Dragons. When she has heard this for the first time, her jaw dropped. Then she laughed aloud, yet only briefly for she saw how speaking of Brandon, of Lyanna, of her father and also of Rhaegar Targaryen pains Beron. 

"When shall we go to Meereen? I want to see Jon..." 

"Ten days or fortnight from now..." Beron replied "...I have to go there to report to Queen Daenerys of progress being made in Astapor. From what I've learned thus far, this city is now in better shape than Meereen is. After that butcher Cleon they all wish peace, once masters and once slaves alike. In Meereen, on the other hand..." 

"...there are some masked rebels that fight against Targaryen queen. Eliar told me so." Arya added.

"Yes, there are. Men who wish to restore slavery and oust Daenerys from Slaver's Bay. Her and all that follow her. I know you want to see Jon, I want to see the two of you reunited, it will bring him great joy, but be patient. Use that time to improve your skills with sword as well."

"I am good with the sword, I know the water dance..." she countered.

"Indeed, you do know some of it. That... Syrio Forel... has taught you well given how brief you trained with him. But, you have spared with two of my Braavosi men, both learned in water dance and they both tell me you are still only a beginner. You may choose one of them to continue your training... why such look, sweet cousin?" 

"I'm not your sweet..." she frowned at first, but seeing his grin, Arya shook her head and said: "...I just... I still don't understand why are you all right with me training with weapons, you're encouraging it even. That is not common..."

"Well, I guess I am an uncommon man. What you have learned ever since your poor father was murdered for his honor, what you have learned in Harrenhal and Riverlands is that you do not have to hold a sword to be killed by it. And I want you to be able to defend yourself in more ways than one. With sword, with bow, with spear. You will begin your training here with one of the Unsullied, but best of them are in Meereen. I'll see that you learn from them."

Arya was nodding contently, then she asked chuckling: "What will _Aegon Targaryen_ say of that?"

Beron chuckled as well: "Jon is your cousin by blood, same as me. I know he will forever be your brother by heart, but he is not your father, he cannot forbid it even if he wanted to. And as he was the one who gave you the Needle... I trust he'll be happy to see how you're using it properly.  
If by some wonder he were to disapprove it, then I will speak with him." 

"Thank you, Beron..." she said aloud before taking her leave, she was eager to return to her sword lessons. 

"Return here two hours after noon, we shall take a ride across the city." 

Arya never regretted not continuing her voyage to Braavos, but first couple of days in Slaver's Bay were marked with her wish to leave for Meereen on the first ship that would sail northwards from Astapor. Beron dismissed any thought of her going alone, she was not pleased with it, yet he was right. Slaver ships from Volantis, New Ghis, even Qarth were looming in the waters of this part of Essos, waiting for those willing to sell themselves back to slavery but also piracy was not foreign to them when they prey was weak enough. Arya's first week in Astapor has passed and she slowly grew to like the red city. Beron took her on patrols from one end of the city to another, from harbor to inland walls.

Arya liked Worm river with its little islands and bridges that joined west and east of Astapor. West part was richer, due to the harbor, great pyramid was there same as Plaza of Pride, most of the lesser pyramids of noble houses and also the barracks where Unsullied where once trained.

East part had two most prominent fighting pits, Jothiel's and Douquor's. Pits were not used anymore and Arya has heard some gruesome stories of what took place there, little children fed to the bears or forced to fight with aurochs. Her eyes had seen many acts of cruelty since she fled from King's Landing, but this part of the world has made an art in cruelty. It disgusted her and she truly hoped that all she has heard of how Daenerys Targaryen dealt with slavers was true. 

Silver queen.

One that was sister of Jon's true father. It still befuddled Arya how her father kept a secret for so many years from everyone, using the ruse of bastardy to hide his sister's son, the prince of house of the dragon. Aunt Lyanna was married to Rhaegar Targaryen. Jon was in truth Aegon and now the last man of House Targaryen. He was the last man of House Stark as well. When she met Beron and talked with him of Robb, Bran and Rickon, Arya wept. Not before Beron, but alone. All her brothers save Jon were dead, last she heard of Sansa was her being guilty of kingslaying, how she and the Imp poisoned Joffrey at his wedding. Her sister vanished after that wedding feast with Cersei's men searching for her all over Westeros. 

Oft did words of her father come to her mind, words of how when the cold wind blows the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Arya now thought of those words to be wrong and hollow. She was the lone wolf and alive, while the pack was killed and scattered. She has found now two more wolves, but one was of the east and the other... _he is not a wolf truly, is he? Jon is a dragon. Yet, he was raised as one of us and he craves for revenge against all who wronged House Stark..._

Those were her thoughts and she will speak of it with Jon, once they reunite. Lannisters, Boltons, Freys... all of them were dead in her dreams, every single one. She dreamed of them not being slain or poisoned, she dreamed of them being burned. Dragons... dragons could serve as weapon of Stark revenge. Of Stark justice. _For what happened to my family, there is no justice but revenge_.

She will understand, Targaryen queen. She delivered same kind of justice on slavers. Arya's knowledge of Essos was not abundant, she knew next to nothing of Slaver's Bay and its ways. Though she has heard of the Unsullied, when she was told what they had to do to earn their shields, kill the newborn babes before their mothers and then pay the owner of those women and babes for their loss, Arya was so glad that Daenerys Stormborn burned and killed many slavers of Astapor on the Plaza of Pride.

Much to Beron’s mislike, she would go around the city alone, dressed in plain clothes, not in Stark colors. Those more ignorant among Astapori would mistake her pale skin to be Qartheen. She would not talk if talking was not needed as her knowledge of High Valyrian was not so good, though being aboard _Titan’s Daughter_ helped her to renew some of it. Arya could not speak much of the tongue, but weeks among Braavosi sailors helped her to understand quite a lot. Astapori Valyrian was different, yet she could grasp the meaning of spoken words. Some street vendors along the bank of Worm river thought she was mute, it amused her and she did not even try to convince them otherwise.

“Naenie āeksia isse Mīrīn zokla vala ossēntan.” ( _Many masters in Meereen wolf man killed)._

“Pōja lenton ziry zaltan. Se dakogon zirȳ hen oktion.” _(Their homes he burned. And chase them from the city.)_

“Lēda daor grēze…” ( _With no clothes!_ ) fat woman said before bursting into laughter.

Man selling fruits from the cart was talking aloud with four more people, by their attire she could tell they were former slaves. Arya walked closer to them and asked, trying to sound as Braavosi as she could: “Zokla vala?”

“Kessa. Iā rōva zokla ēza. Rōva hae anne.” fruit seller replied. ( _Yes. A big wolf he has. Big as a horse._ ) 

Large woman chuckled between two bites of peach: “Zokla bona rōva iksis daor. Ziry sagon daor.” ( _Wolf that big is not. It cannot be._ )

“Epagon mirre hen dovaogēdy. Pōnta mirre ūndan bona dyni isse Mīrīn.” ( _Ask any of the Unsullied. They all saw that beast in Meereen._ )

Arya smiled, then she also took one peach and spoke while chewing, to hide her accent: “Isse Vēzrunno Dārȳti konīr issi zokli bona rōva.”  
( _In Sunset Kingdoms there are wolves that big._ )

“Se zaldrīzoti? Gaomagon ēzi zaldrīzoti konīr?” vendor asked. ( _And dragons? Do they have dragons there?_ )

She shook her head, then he told her of silver queen that has three dragons and she nodded.

“Gēlenka Dāria se Zaldrīzes Dārilaros sir udrāzma Mīrīn.” he added. ( _Silver Queen and Dragon Prince now rule Meereen_.)

“Zaldrīzes Dārilaros?” she asked, still chewing.

“Aegon Targārien… īles kesīr, Pirta dārys Cleon ziry ossēntan.” ( _Aegon Targaryen. He was here, false king Cleon he killed._ )

Arya knew that already and she regretted that _Titan’s Daughter_ was not swifter in sailing to Astapor, she could have met Jon here. Wolf man… dragon prince. These people spoke in awe of him and of young Targaryen queen and that made Arya even more impatient to leave for Meereen.

Two days ago, ship came from largest city of Slaver’s Bay with provisions for the garrison under Beron’s command and brought word of what took place there. Astapori harbor was soon echoing with tales of cruel young captain which was banishing whole families, no matter how highborn they were from Meereen if they were opposing the Breaker of Chains. It amused her how stories changed as they were passing from one mouth to the other. Wolf man and dragon prince were one man, then two different men, then it was this young captain that served both of them. Even those who had seen Jon when he was in Astapor were not so certain of him being that man. Arya enjoyed listening to these stories, but no matter how different they were in details, all spoke of the same, of Jon delivering righteous wrath upon slavers and their masked servants.

Astapor was now at peace and Meereen was in turmoil. Arya grew more and more impatient to leave the red city and only training with three weapons, sword, bow and spear calmed her. Beron has found one former _bravo_ in his ranks who could taught her water dance. This man was far from skills of Syrio Forel, but he has shown Arya some moves that Syrio has not, moves one can only learn in street duels, moves which lacked grace and honor both, but could bring victory.

“She cannot carry both shield and spear. She is not strong enough.” captain of the Unsullied who was named Sure Spear said to Beron.

“Then teach her to use spear without shield. She’ll learn to be swift to avoid enemy blows.” her kinsman replied to him.

Arya trained in the courtyard of the great pyramid of Astapor. Upon seeing the Unsullied first hand, she truly was impressed by these soldiers. They were strong willed and disciplined, their formation acted as one, their shield wall was unlike any she saw before and she did witness shield walls of Westerosi men at arms. And unlike men at arms of Westeros, no Unsullied ever gave her a lustful look. _They have no cocks…_ was her first thought followed by another… _but even man without cock can find a way to hurt women and girls when he wants to._

There was no such desire in the eyes of these men and they moved among women and girls of Astapor every day, women and girls that wore clothes which barely covered them. Slaver’s Bay was the warmest part of the world Arya went thus far and it took her some time to grow used to the heat. When she practiced with Sure Spear, she was soaked in sweat, even if she wore only shirt and light trousers.

“You should take a break.” Unsullied captain would tell her, half in Low Valyrian, half in broken Common Tongue, more than once.

“I do not want to. I want to learn.” she would reply every time, wiping her brow.

“There is a great rage within you, Arya Stark.” Sure Spear said to her after one lesson.

“There is. May I ask you a question?” He nodded.

“Why don’t you have a rage? You were made slave as a little boy, you were gelded, you’ll never have a wife or child of your own, you were made to kill a newborn babe and then you have served evil masters for years…”

“I have. I have learned to bury my rage. Then Daenerys Stormborn made me a free man again. My rage is now for her enemies. For masters in Yunkai, for Sons of the Harpy, for sellswords that broke faith with her… Rage is good when it serves you. And bad when it becomes your master.”

“Who taught you those words?” she asked.

“Living as the Unsullied, Arya Stark.” Sure Spear answered.

Nine and ten days later, a galley which once was called _Mazdhan the Magnificent_ but renamed in _Breaker of Chains,_ took sail from port of Astapor northwards. Lord Beron Stark, commander of garrison of Astapor, journeyed to Meereen, to give his report to Queen Daenerys Targaryen. At his side was his young cousin, Arya, as far as he knew last living child of lord Eddard Stark. There was one more daughter, but no word came of her since king Joffrey Baratheon assasination and lady Sansa Stark could have been alive and could have been dead. Beron feared the latter to be truth, but he never shared that fear with Sansa's younger sister. Arya has become very dear to him, not only for her likeness with Lyanna both in appearance and character, but for this girl was kind to everyone around her and never acted as any man or woman was beneath her, no matter how lowborn. Arya was indeed kind to those that deserved kindness, but also rude and hostile to those who deserved her enmity. Beron liked that, her honesty, she did not act politeness nor did she hide her mislike and disgust. He made a promise to himself, to girl's dead father and to Lyanna whose image he saw in Arya that he will do all he can to keep her safe from any peril and that he will teach her to defend herself from any peril.

"In Meereen I'll see to it that you continue your spear training. Those best among the Unsullied are guarding the Queen, one of them can be your new teacher." he told her as he watched practicing water dance on the ship's deck.

 _Breaker of Chains_ has passed the island of Yaros, making half the way between Astapor and Yunkai. 

"Thank you. You've been very good to me, Beron." she told him with warm voice.

"You're my blood, Arya. That is my duty. And my pleasure. I like having you with me. Oft you're unruly, but I don't hold that against you..." he said smiling and she knew his last words were jape.

"I only regret that Eliar did not teach me more of how to use bow from the horseback." Arya said pensively.

"There are Dothraki with Daenerys Stormborn, they will teach you, though you must pay... now, they do not call it payment, you must gift them with something, then they could teach you. Dothraki do not see women as warriors but I trust Queen will help us in that regard." 

"I've heard many stories of her in Astapor. Some speak of her being kind to those that are weak, some of her being cruel woman who enjoys burning people... what is she truly like?" Arya asked.

"You will know the truth, when you meet her yourself. But, what do you think, would your brother fell in love with a cruel murderer?" Beron replied and she shook her head right away. 

Then Arya said in dry voice: "I don't mind her and Jon both being cruel murderers if they kill those who deserve it. I wish my father and Robb were more cruel, then they would not be betrayed. People would be too afraid to betray them..." 

Beron sighed: "You're wrong, my sweet cousin. From what I've heard of that boy king Joffrey, he was vicious and cruel and still someone betrayed him, poisoning him on his very wedding. Being cruel doesn't make you any safer." 

"My father was loyal and honorable. My brother Robb was noble and he trusted in Frey honor. They are both dead now. I don't know... is it stupid to be loyal and honorable in this world, Beron?"

"No, Arya. It was not honor and loyalty in your father and your brother that killed them. It was their belief that others have that same..." he was suddenly quiet.

Beron's eyes went up, toward cloudy sky. Arya frowned at him, then looked up as well.

Her jaw dropped same as the Needle from her hand.

Black and red dragon flew over the _Breaker of Chains,_ his wings moved lazily and he paid no heed to the vessel below, aiming for the Yunkish coast. Arya watched him fly over the ship in awe, beast's scales were black while his horns were crimson. There was good twenty feet from one end of dragon's wings to the other and as they flapped, it sounded as thunder to her. Dragon, a living dragon. He looked nothing as drawings in old books she saw in Winterfell library, but there he was, in the sky above her. 

"Drogon, Arya, that is Drogon. The largest of three dragons of Daenerys Targaryen." Beron told her, keeping his eyes on the dragon that was slowly vanishing on the horizon. 

"I've never... he is... he is magnificent..." was all she could utter "...truly magnificent..." 

"And frightening..." Beron added "...look at the crewmen... they are scared and that poor boy in crow's nest has surely shat his breeches." 

Arya looked around and truly faces of all the sailors were marked with fear. They were Ghiscari after all, raised on tales how many centuries ago dragons of Old Valyria broke the empire of their forefathers. She did not care of that, all she said to Beron was:

"Will she let me to see the other two dragons? When we get to Meereen? Will Daenerys let me see them?" 


	22. KINFOLK

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**KINFOLK**

_"...Targaryens answered to neither gods nor men."_

_"...Starks will endure. We always have."_

Dono Pahrah and Belo Ostios dismounted first, he remained in the saddle only a bit longer, looking at the ship whose sails were already half-furled as her crewmen were on the masts. _Breaker of Chains_ has laid anchor in the port of Meereen, not far away from mouth of Skahazadhan river. This part of harbor was right beneath the small hill on which Temple of Graces stood, its golden domes were second thing one would see coming by the sea. First was the Great Pyramid. Port was crowded with people, some came to meet those that were coming from Astapor, some came only for curiosity. Ships were coming to Meereen, not in numbers as before, when masters were selling slaves from Lys to Qarth and even further east, to lands of Yi Ti, but there where port was, there was also trade. Jon noticed people with their belongings, some were carrying it on their backs, some on carts or on donkeys. Some were once masters, some once slaves. They all moved aside when he rode in with his men, as if they were ashamed. These people were leaving the city. Once masters were headed for Tolos, Mantarys, New Ghis, even Elyria, once slaves were headed to sell themselves back to slavery or to live as free men far from Slaver's Bay, those wanted to go as far west as they could. He could feel how those in garments which spoke of wealth are stabbing him with their looks. He did not care. They were not the reason he came to the port. He came to meet his cousin who was returning from the red city.

Jon dismounted at last and slowly paced towards the lowered plank of the ship. He was dressed in black trousers, grey tunic over which he donned red jerkin with black borders. Around his waist was dragon sash, his beloved tied it this morning, same as every day. His eyes caught Beron standing on the deck, at the end of the plank. His kinsman was an image of true lord today, in black boots and dun breeches, white tunic and dark-grey tabard with embroidered Stark sigil. He made a courteous nod to Jon. 

He returned the gesture to Beron and smiled approvingly, then smile vanished from his face. He saw someone standing next to Beron, dressed exactly the same as he was. Jon's eyes widened and his mouth were open in disbelief. It was a dark-haired girl. It was a face he knew well, face he oft believed was gone forever. He stood there watching how this girl runs over the plank, runs to him. It was not a trick of his mind, it was her. It was his little sister.

"Jon! Jon!" she shouted before jumping into his embrace, nearly knocking him down on the ground.

"Arya! Arya..." was all he could say. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. It was her. It was Arya. In his embrace, in Meereen. She was alive. Tears went down his cheeks and he could hear silent sobs coming from her.

"Let me look at you..." he said still holding her above the ground, as she were a toddler "...but... but how..." 

Her face was soaked in tears and she spoke, all in one breath: "I wanted to go to Braavos, but ship went to Astapor where Beron and I have met and he knew who I was for I look like our aunt...my aunt..."

Jon never heard Arya talking like this, her heart was beating fast, same as his, she was just as excited and happy as he was. "Beron found you?" he managed to ask putting her back on the ground.

"Yes... well... we sort of found each other and I was with him in Astapor ever since." she replied still clinging tight to Jon.

"Ever since?" he asked kissing her head.

"A moon or so..." she said looking at Jon lovingly with her grey eyes. 

"A moon! And neither of you thought of sending a word to me???" Jon said aloud.

"We wanted to surprise you... Don't be angry." she smiled.

"Well, consider me surprised." he said, still not letting her go.

"I must fetch my things..." Arya said and they parted embrace.

She made few steps from Jon and then rushed back into his arms. "Gods, Arya, you are alive, Alive and with me... You'll never leave my side. Ever." 

"I won't. But I am not a little girl anymore, brother." 

"No, you're almost a woman grown..." he said "...go, fetch your things." 

Arya walked back up the plank, her face glowing as she looked at Jon. Beron placed his hand on her shoulder and she squeezed it with hers, giving Pentoshi Stark a gaze of whole gratitude. 

"Prince Aegon..." Beron said formally as they stood next to each other.

"Lord Stark..." he returned in the same way. Next they both laughed and embraced as well.

"Where did you found her?" Jon asked, still taken aback with notion of Arya being in Meereen.

"As she said, we found each other. She looks very much as your mother, she is every bit a Stark. I saw her in port of Astapor, I questioned her... and here she is. What a girl, Jon, that is all I can say."

"She is something else, is she not?" Jon said, wiping his tears, then he chuckled seeing Arya coming down the plank again.

"Those are your things?" he asked looking at the Needle on her belt, curved bow and arrow bag on her back and Unsullied spear in her hand. 

"These are my most important belongings." she replied proudly.

"Arya was doing some training in Astapor..." Beron shrugged "...sword, bow, spear... She is very good with all three." 

"I am. You'll see..." Arya nodded. "Yes, I am certain of that." Jon said with smile.

"Do you have a horse for me or do I walk from here to that tall pyramid?" she asked next.

"You have not changed." Jon told her with warmest gaze possible. 

"I have. Same as you. But, you will always be my brother, no matter what. No matter what your true name is, _Aegon_..." her eyes looked at him just as warm.

"She knows??" Jon turned to Beron.

"Of course she does. Arya and I have no secrets, do we, sweet cousin?" 

"I am not your sweet cousin, Beron Stark..." Arya's eyes narrowed before she stood on her toes to give Beron kiss on the cheek "...still I like you greatly." 

Jon laughed aloud. This was one of the happiest moments ever since he came to Essos. Not so long ago he had another happy moment and he wanted to share it with his little sister.

"Arya, we have a lot to talk about..."

"We do, my dragon prince. Or should I call you _zokla vala_?"

"I thought you were dead..." Jon told her as they were walking down the quay, leading their horses. Beron was already gone, riding towards the Great Pyramid. 

"I thought I'll never see you again..." Arya replied. 

"Why were you going to Braavos, Arya? You knew I was in Pentos... you knew we have kinfolk there." 

"I had my reasons. It does not matter now... Tell me of her. Tell me of your dragon queen." 

"Daenerys will be my wife, Arya. She... she is with child. My child." 

Arya halted her pace and grabbed his arm: "You're going to be a father?!" Jon nodded.

"Congratulations!" she exclaimed happily.

"Keep that to yourself. I haven't told that to anyone till now." 

Arya smiled at him: "Jon, you'll be a wonderful father. I know that already."

He shrugged: "It all came so sudden... meeting Daenerys, learning who I truly am..." 

"You will tell me all about it. And I tell you my story... though mine does not have Mother of Dragons." 

"I know she'll be very happy to meet you, I've told her a lot about you." Jon said smiling.

"What is she truly like? I've heard all sorts of stories of her in Astapor. And of you, _wolf man._ " 

"What sort of stories?" was his question.

"Some stories say that both of you are blood thirsty and cruel, other say you fight for those who cannot fight for themselves." 

"And what did you believe?" Jon wanted to know. 

"I believed both to be true. That you were cruel to those who wronged the weak. I believe Daenerys Targaryen to be the same." 

"She is. I trust you will like her. And she will like you as well." 

Arya shook her head, chuckling and that made him ask: "What?" 

"Jon Snow... my big brother is in truth my cousin and his name is Aegon Targaryen. And he will have a child with his father's sister.  
I am to be an aunt of Targaryen prince or princess. Or cousin?" 

"Arya, you will always be my sister. Nothing will ever change that." he said placing his arm around her shoulders. 

"Nothing will ever change that..." she repeated and added "...knowing now that my aunt was not kidnapped and raped, but loved by a Targaryen... I have no issue of having one as my family."

"In six moons or so, you'll have more than one." he said smiling.

"Jon, you know that two of us are last of our family. Gods only know where Sansa is and if she still lives. Boltons rule the North now. Traitors who butchered my mother, Robb and his pregnant wife and all his men. We must avenge them." 

He sighed: "I know what happened at Twins. Red Wedding they call it now. We shall avenge them. Daenerys will not stay in Meereen. She wants to retake the Iron Throne. I want that as well now. I want to punish Lannisters, Boltons, Freys and everyone else who has Stark blood on his hands." 

"I wanted nothing more but to hear this from you, Jon." Arya said contently. 

"As I have both wolf and dragon blood, I have these words for our enemies - with fire and blood the North remembers." he told her with cold, dry voice.

"My mission to Yunkai was a resounding success." Hizdahr zo Loraq said proudly, standing before the throne of Meereen. 

Young woman sitting on it listened to his words with caution, as he continued: "The Wise Masters of Yunkai have agreed to cede power to a council of elders made up of both the freed men and the once slavers. All matters of consequence will be brought to you for review."

"Good..." Daenerys said.

"It did ask for some concessions." Hizdahr said next.

"Concessions?" 

"Politics is the art of compromise, Your Grace."

"I am not a politician. I am a Queen." she replied, her eyes narrowed.

"Forgive me. You're right of course. Still it's easier to rule happy subjects than angry ones." he told her.

"I don't expect the Wise Masters to be happy. Slavery made them rich. I ended slavery." Dany said sternly. 

"They do not ask for return of slavery. They ask for the reopening of fighting pits."

"The fighting pits? Where slaves fought slaves to the death?" disgust marked her voice.

"In the new world that you've brought to us, free men would fight free men. The pit fighters you liberated plead for this opportunity. Bring some here and ask them yourself." 

"No fighting pits." she said with resolve.

"Opening them would show the people of Yunkai and Meereen that you respect their traditions." he countered, as politely as he could.

"I do not respect the tradition of human cockfighting." disgust was again in her words.

"If you could only..." he insisted but she cut him: "How many times must I say no before you understand?" 

Hizdahr was silent right away, acknowledging defeat. Then she said: "I hope Wise Masters do not take me for a fool. This _compromise_ they offer comes only after most of the Second Sons have returned under my banner. Yunkai is alone now, between two cities that are under my rule." 

"Your Grace, should this enmity with Wise Masters last, they could seek allies in New Ghis and Volantis..." he said.

"They are free to do so. I am free to punish them afterwards." 

"Your are, but Meereen as well is hurt and bleeding from within." he said, his head lowered.

"Hurt and bleeding? Interesting choice of words. I would prefer the truth. How masked bandits harry the people of Meereen wanting to restore slavery and the old world, world to which fighting pits belonged same as chains and shackles." 

"Your Grace, forgive me for being so bold but the way Sons of the Harpy are fought against also has brought great suffering..." 

"What way is that, Hizdahr zo Loraq?" she asked, more and more irked with him.

"The way in which whole families are being banished from the city naked, from little children to old men... no matter their birth." he said, his gaze still down.

"Not one noble family was banished from Meereen. Yet. And I was told both old men and little children used to die naked in fighting pits. For amusement of those of higher birth." 

"House of Zhak..." Hizdahr began to talk, but she cut him again: "House of Zhak are now my prisoners, kept in their own pyramid. Save Zikhar. He is in chains in the dungeon of this pyramid." 

"For what purpose, Your Grace? He should have been trialed and executed. This way, rumors go among the nobles of Meereen of him being tortured by his once slaves..." 

"Do you trust those rumors? If you're so eager to see how Zikhar mo Zhak is treated, perhaps I should put you in the same cell with him for a night or two..." Dany said in menacing tone.

"I am your loyal servant, Your Grace. I am here to advise you. And to inform you of how that part of Meereen to which I belong thinks and feels of your actions." 

"The part of Meereen you belong to should speak more loudly against the Sons of the Harpy. This way, their silence is thundering." 

He was about to say something more, but she gestured with her hand: "I expect you on the council meeting overmorrow, Hizdahr zo Loraq." 

As he walked down the throne stairs, Dany placed her hand on the belly. She wore loose white dress to hide the bump, she was three moons pregnant now. Missandei who stood on the platform beneath the throne knew of her being with child and she gave her queen a worried look. A barely visible smile came from Daenerys, telling that she is all right. 

"Is that all for today, Ser Barristan?" 

"It is, Your Grace. There are no more petitioners." Lord Commander of Queensguard replied.

"Then I am free to retire." she said smiling. 

"Your Grace, ship has arrived from Astapor. Lord Beron Stark should arrive shortly. He is expected to give you his report." Selmy reminded her.

"I know. I shall receive him on the apex terrace. You may bring him there when he comes." Daenerys said as she walked away, followed by Missandei.

They were both seated in the shade of persimmon tree on the terrace of Queen's apartment. MIssandei served her chilled lime juice. 

"Your Grace... if you permit me to say so, you will not be able to keep your pregnancy secret for too long now."

"I know... I was with child once before, but it was easier for me. I rode horses with ease. For many miles across the Dothaki Sea. Now even too much walking tires me." 

"You had two healers and three midwives to see you. They have all kept their oath of secrecy. And one healer and one midwife said you could be..."

"...with more than one child.... oh, how I wish that to be true. Twins were not born oft in my family, but they weren't uncommon either..." Dany said with longing voice.

"...whenever you speak of your babe or babes, there is fear in your words, my queen. Fear that is unlike you." Missandei said.

Dany gave her a slight smile: "And I thought how it is not in plain sight... I fear, yes. I fear of losing this child as well. On some days there blood spots on my underclothes. It frightens me every time." 

"It should not. I've seen many slavegirls of Krazyns mo Nakloz being pregnant and they had such spots, too." Naathi girl said. 

"You can tell me that I am being foolish. I see you not only as my adviser but also as my friend." 

"Then, Your Grace, you are being foolish." Missandei said with formal tone. 

"Lady Arya?!" old knight uttered in disbelief as he saw Jon coming with raven-haired girl to the uppermost level of the Great Pyramid. 

"Ser Barristan." girl made a polite nod. "You know each other?" Jon wondered.

"I have seen lady Arya at the Hand's tourney..." Barristan said "...though she was still a child then. My lady, I trust it must be some tale of how you made your way to Slaver's Bay." 

"It is, Ser." Stark girl replied. "I would like to hear it one day." old knight said next, then he looked at Jon: "My prince, I shall inform the Queen of your coming here." 

"That will not be necessary, Ser Barristan. If you allow me, I would like to introduce my sister to Her Grace myself." 

"As you wish, my prince." Selmy said and stepped away from the door of Queen's apartment, gesturing them to enter. Jon could tell Arya was amused every time someone would call him by his title.

They have entered the chambers of ruler of Meereen and as she was not inside, he knew right away where to find her. He led his sister to the terrace and he saw Daenerys and Missandei sitting on the bench in the tree shade.

"Prince Aegon..." queen's adviser said and stood up from the bench looking at Jon and even more at the unknown girl at his side. Daenerys smiled at him but then her eyes shifted to his sister as well. 

"Your Grace..." Jon said as formal as he could and it was never easy for him to be formal near Dany "...allow me to present lady Arya of House Stark, my younger sister." 

"Queen Daenerys..." Arya said as she bowed before the silver-haired woman. 

Dany looked at the girl wearing a tabard with wolf head stitched on it. There was no doubt of her being a Stark. She had the same eyes and hair as Jon did, same eyes and hair as girl in her dreams, girl she called Lyaenys. Last woman of House Targaryen stood up as well and her gaze went to Jon: 

"This is your sister? This is Arya?"

Jon nodded, his face glowed with joy: "Yes, this is her... It's a long story... she did not tell me all of it yet, but this truly is Arya." 

Daenerys made few paces and was now facing the Stark girl who looked at her equally befuddled: "Lady Arya Stark, you're most welcome to Meereen." 

"Thank you... Your Grace." Arya replied not taking eyes from her.

"Missandei..." Daenerys said next "...have meal and refreshment prepared for lady Stark."

"Right away, my queen." Missandei said rushing away from the terrace.

"Gods or fate have truly been kind, lady Arya, to bring you here. Your... brother... never wanted to believe it, but oft he feared that you were no longer among the living. I've heard a lot about you from him. And I look forward knowing you myself." 

"If you want, I'll order more food brought for you." Daenerys said looking at Arya eating roasted duck stuffed with mushrooms and onions.

"No, this is quite enough, Your Grace, thank you." Stark girl replied between two bites. 

"Indeed, you look too thin for your age, Arya..." Jon said, grinning at her. 

"Now you sound like Tywin Lannister. He said something of the sort as well." she grinned back.

"Tywin Lannister?!" he blurted in wonder. "I served as his cupbearer in Harrenhal." Arya replied calmly.

"He made you his cupbearer? He had most prized prisoner to fill his wine cups... how did you escape from him?" Jon asked.

"He didn't know who I was. I pretended to be a lowborn girl and that ruse worked. When he moved his camp from Harrenhal, he left me behind. Then I escaped." 

Daenerys smiled at her: "Something tells me that was not the strangest thing which happened to you, lady Stark." 

Arya shook her head: "I'm not lady Stark. I am Arya." 

"If so, then I am not Your Grace to you, but Daenerys. Agreed?" 

"Agreed..." Arya nodded contently, looking at ruler of Meereen. That gaze did not escape Daenerys: "You may speak." 

"You don't look as I've imagined you..." came the reply. Jon frowned at his sister, but Dany smiled: "And how did you imagine me?" 

Arya shrugged: "From all those stories I've heard of you, I thought you to be Visenya reborn." 

"I see. You imagined me to be stern, unforgiving and dangerous queen." 

"Visenya Targaryen was a great warrior. She rode Vhagar and had wieled Darksister." Arya replied. 

"She was Arya's most liked Targaryen queen..." Jon added "...and Arya liked Princess Nymeria." 

"Another warrior queen. Jon told me your wolf was named after her. Well, I am not Nymeria. Nor I am Visenya." Daenerys told Arya.

"No, you are not. Nymeria had no dragon. Visenya had one. Daenerys Stormborn has three dragons." Stark girl said, smiling at silver-haired queen who gave her an approving nod.

"I've seen one of them... the black one..." Arya said while chewing the onion. Dany lifted her eyebrows: "Drogon? Where?"

"He flew over our ship near Yunkai, heading for inland. I'll remember that sight till the day I die." 

"So, Drogon is near Yunkai..." Jon said looking at Daenerys whose gaze was now half-absent: "...He surely feeds on the livestock there. And surely Wise Masters have seen him near the city." 

"Wise Masters?" Jon asked. 

"I was about to tell you. Hizdahr zo Loraq returned from his mission to Yunkai. They agreed to give power to council of elders, but they condition it. With Drogon flying nearby, that could teach them not to put conditions before me. " 

"Aye, they'll have no trouble believing Drogon flies over their heads, doing your bidding." Jon said. 

"What else could dragon be doing?" Arya asked, but her question remained unanswered. 

"I would not have sent Hizdahr to Yunkai. His place is in the dungeon with his friend Zikhar." were Jon's next words to Dany.

"He nearly ended there as he was forgetting his place today. I've sent to Yunkai to keep him away from his masked host. And it was plain how their commander is not in the city. Their attacks were many folds fewer while Hizdahr was in the yellow city."

Arya looked at both of them: "...this Hizdahr, he leads the Sons of the Harpy?" "You have heard of them, Arya?" Daenerys asked. 

"I have. In Astapor and on my voyage here." Jon added: "We trust him to be their leader or one of their main leaders." 

"Why is he still alive? Why do you suffer him? And send him as your envoy?" Arya asked next.

"He sits on my council..." Daenerys told her "...and I don't want to kill only one Harpy. I want to remove their whole nest. For that I need him to believe that I still believe in his loyalty." 

Arya wondered: "What can bandits under masks, even an army of them do to you? You have two more dragons here with you, even if that black one is away. Do they fly over the city? I would like to see them." 

Jon exchanged uneasy looks with Dany and his sister knew that very moment she said the wrong words.


	23. DAENERYS

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**DAENERYS**

_"...One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found."_

"I heard your sister asking Ser Barristan if he could train her in swordplay." Dany said lying in the bed next to Jon.

"No surprise there. She wants to learn from the best. Beron trains her in archery. And I trust she will ask Grey Worm to teach her how to use a spear." he said calmly, looking at the ceiling.

"I've never known a girl more willing to have skills with weapons than Arya. I was about to offer her to be lady of the court." 

Jon chuckled loudly: "Arya Stark as lady in waiting... Good luck with that." 

"She is highborn girl, her place is..." she countered, but he shook his head: "If Sansa were here, she'd accept that offer with whole eagerness. And she'd be excellent lady in waiting. But Arya... no. She was not born for dresses." 

"Let me see that for myself then..." Dany replied impatiently. "Oh, you will see it, no doubt about that." Jon smiled at her. 

She wanted to give him a rebuttal, but then she let out a sigh and her hand reached her belly. Dark-haired prince got serious right away: "What is it? Are you all right?" 

Dany nodded: "I am... it's just... I don't know Jon, I feel so heavy and weak in the same time and there is good six moons before our babe is due... or babes..." She smiled at the thought. 

"Then you're not all right." he said, worried. "I am, do not trouble yourself. I eat well, I sleep well... as much as your lust allows me..." she grinned at him "...yet I feel odd. I've been with child before, It was nothing as this."

"As what?" Jon wondered. "As there is heavy burden on my back, as something is pressing me. I know I'm not making much sense. Mayhaps mind of a pregnant woman plays tricks as some claim, but why this time with me?"

"Your mind is clear, Dany. I've seen you in the throne room today. You're still that same stern but just queen I've met in Yunkai. Though I prefer you more like this, as naked young woman in my arms." 

"Oh, I like you most when you're bare as well, _zokla vala_." she said smiling which made him to kiss her gently. Then went lower and placed same gentle kiss on her bump: "Sleep well, my little dragon." 

"We should be sleeping as well." were her words as she stroked his raven hair. "Aye, we should." he agreed. 

Daenerys has found Arya on the third level of the Great Pyramid. She was practicing spear throwing with one of the serjeants of the Unsullied. It was plain that Arya found a way to convince Grey Worm to allow his men to train her. When he saw her, serjeant knelt right away while Stark girl politely bowed her head.

"Henujagon īlva kostā. Lēda riña Āria kesan ȳdragon." she said to the Unsullied allowing him to leave as she wanted to speak with Arya alone.

"I am grateful for your offer, Daenerys, but trust me I will make a poor lady in waiting. I truly will. I fail in acting ladylike. I always have." Arya told her upon hearing Dany's words.

"Yes... Jon told me the same. He knows you well..." queen was nodding "...yet as daughter of Warden of the North and soon to be my good-sister I am obliged to place you in the court. It is proper." 

"I understand." Arya agreed and remained silent for a few moments. Then she said, her face got sudden glow: "I could be part of the pyramid guard. Both the Unsullied and Company of the Watch stand guard here, I could do that." 

Dany frowned: "You want to be man... woman of the guards?!" Arya nodded: "If you want me on your court, that is how I can be of use to you and Jon the best. And my nephew or niece once they come to this world." 

"Was there ever a guardswoman on Targaryen court?" Dany smiled wondering. "Was there ever Targaryen queen as you?" Arya countered which made silver-haired woman to agree: 

"I trust we are both singular in our way." "I trust we are." Arya agreed. Then he said: "What truly will make you, Jon and your children safe from any foes are your dragons. I was told they are locked in this pyramid. May I ask why?" 

Daenerys let out a deep breath: "You may... One that is roaming free, Drogon, has been feeding on the sheep and goats around this city and he burned a little girl that was tending a herd. I cannot allow more people to be burned." 

"So you locked the other two while the one you were told he has burned a child is free?" Northern girl asked. "Drogon did not allow to be locked, he is wildest of all my children. He flies across the Slaver's Bay for weeks now." 

"Has he burned anyone else? Sheepherders, village folk?" Arya asked. "He has not. No one came with charred bones of man or woman before me... You do not approve of me locking Rhaegal and Viserion. I can tell that easily." 

"No. I do not. I wished to see them in the air above this city. Jon told me to ask you if you could take me to see them in the vaults of this pyramid. I will not. I don't want to see them in chains. Dragons do not belong in chains. Same as direwolves. I like seeing Ghost here with Jon, but every time I see him it pains me, for he reminds me of my direwolf, of Nymeria. It pains me greatly." 

"What happened to her?" Dany asked. 

"I had to send her away. We have journeyed down the kingsroad, my father and sister Sansa and royal family and many from King Robert's court. That cunt Prince Joffrey attacked me and Nymeria bite his hand. Queen Cersei wanted her dead so I had to chase her away. She whined and looked at me and I felt so ashamed, but I had to do it. And then to satisfy that Lannister bitch my father killed Lady, she was Sansa's direwolf." 

"That was no justice." Daenerys said. "Lions do not know justice. Only murder." Arya said with bitterness. 

"Is your wolf still alive?" queen asked. "She is... I had dreams of her. Both in Westeros and across the Narrow sea... she lives and she leads a great pack of common wolves, in Riverlands." 

"Can dreams be same as truth?" Dany asked. "These are. I know they are. Starks are blood of the wolf. Mayhaps we bond with direwolves same as Targaryens bond with dragons. Ask Jon of him and Ghost." 

"I shall... I hope that you will reunite with your Nymeria one day." "I hope that as well. She belongs with me... I want to... I want to tell you something, but please do not say this to Jon for it will hurt him so much." 

There was pain in Arya's voice and Dany took her hand: "There are no secrets between Jon and me, but I shall keep this one since you ask me to. I promise never to tell him what I will hear from you." 

"I saw the Red Wedding..." dark-haired girl sighed. "Red Wedding? When your brother and mother were betrayed and killed? Both Jon and Beron told me you weren't there, that you weren't with your family then." 

"I wasn't. The Hound... Sandor Clegane was bringing me to my mother and Robb for the reward." 

Dany's face darkened: "Clegane? Same name as one who killed my brother's wife and her babes." "That was Ser Gregor Clegane. The Mountain. Hound is his younger brother and he hates him more than any man living." 

"He hates his own brother so?"

Arya nodded: "He burned half of his face when Hound was only a little boy. Sandor Clegane is no good, but his brother is true monster... Hound brought me to the Twins but butchery has already begun. I saw Frey men killing Grey Wind, Robb's direwolf. He was locked away during the wedding feast, he was not with Robb. I saw Frey soldiers killing him with crossbows. And then... to mock my brother... they cut off both his head and Grey Wind's and they saw wolf's head on Robb's body, parading him on the horse... I beg you never say any of this to Jon." there were tears in Arya's eyes. 

"I will never tell him what you've seen. I am sorry that you had to witness it. House Frey is cursed for ever. I was not raised in Westeros but I know what guest right is. I swear it here and now, Arya Stark, that Twins shall be burned down to the foundation stone." Daenerys said, still holding Arya's hand. 

"Jon told me that you want to reclaim the Iron Throne. He wants that as well. And from what I've learned here and in Astapor, I trust you could bring justice back to Westeros. But for that... for that you'll need dragons. Dragons soaring high, not withering away in chains." Stark girl replied.

"I like you, Arya. Same as Jon, you speak your mind. Yet no matter how it pains me to have my children locked beneath this pyramid, there is no other way. I will not have any more burned corpses brought before me."

"I've read in those old books in Winterfell library that dragons are smarter than men." Arya shrugged. "I trust they are, yes." Dany agreed.

"So why don't you trust that they can tell apart sheep and goats from little girls?" 

With Beron Stark she has met the very same day upon his return from Astapor and his report pleased her greatly. It was plain how peace was restored in the red city and how brief but bloody reign of Cleon the butcher made all sides in Astapor to shun violence, at least for a while. And that respite, no matter how brief was proper time to form Astapori city host, one that will maintain order and prevent conflicts which could drag the city back into chaos. Siege laid by Second Sons ended as they have dispersed following the death of Daario Naharis. That removed the threat from without leaving one from within. From Beron's words, Dany concluded there are no Sons of the Harpy in Astapor or if there were, shadow hiding them was still the deepest one. Or mayhaps Astapor was of no great importance for her masked foe. Should Harpy's Sons succeed in chasing her out of Meereen, the new order in Astapor would be replaced with the old in matter of days.

"I hope that new council of Astapor will fare better than one I left behind." she said taking a sip of chilled lime juice, sitting in the council chamber of the Great Pyramid.

"Their rule lies on the spears and shields of the thousand Unsullied you've sent there. And on the swords of city guard they will make from the ranks of their own people."

"Who is training this new city guard in your absence, lord Beron?" Dany asked.

"My men, led by Eliar Sand and other serjeants. And Ser Jorah Mormont." 

She frowned: "Ser Jorah has remained in Astapor? You suffer him there? He is a traitor." 

"And for that he was banished from your court and from Meereen. He wanted to leave for Volantis, but he was caught in the port of Astapor. After Jon used him to write that letter to Varys, he remained in the red city, claiming that he wants to serve you still."

Dany shook her head dismissing that notion, yet Beron continued: "Your Grace, I have no liking for that man, he is just few years older than I am and I find his thoughts and desires for you distasteful for I trust that no man should crave a woman young enough to be his daughter. Still, there is a great wish in him to redeem himself and that wish could be used. Not here, not him being near you again, but in Astapor Jorah the Andal can work in your favor without coming to your sight. To train city guard there is a proper task for him, one he will do good." 

Queen remained silent, her gaze went away as memory of Jorah's betrayal was still hurtful. Then she looked at Pentoshi lord: "Let it be so... I have missed your words of counsel, lord Beron." 

"They are yours should you want them, Your Grace." 

"And I am happy for you. You have found your young cousin, by pure chance. Or was it truly kindness of gods or fate... I cannot say." 

"It is Jon who is the happiest now. He is reunited with his sister. No matter their true blood relation, Arya will always be his little sister and not his cousin. Same as you will never be his aunt, but the only woman he will ever love. I can say that now." 

"I am happy for him too. Very happy. His last Targaryen kin is with him and his last Stark kin is with him. Jon is truly a fortunate man." Dany said smiling.

"And... forgive me if I am being too familiar... he will have more kin in few moons. You are with child, Your Grace, right?" 

Her eyes widened and she looked at Beron: "How...? Is it so plain already?"

He shook his head: "No, your clothes are loose enough to betray you. But, I've grown in the household with many women. I can tell the signs... so... grandchild of Rhaegar and Lyanna will come to this world. That will bring great happiness to me." 

Dany smiled at the notion: "Another dragonwolf. He or she will be more dragon than wolf but still. I trust my son or daughter will not be an easy child." 

"No, knowing both sides of that babe's family, how could he or she be?" Beron said approvingly. Daenerys returned one more smile before saying:

"That child must have a safe future. For that reason I wanted to discuss another matter with you, my lord. How to behead Sons of the Harpy with as few blows as possible." 

"Zikhar mo Zhak. I intend to put him on trial. What do you advise me?" Targaryen queen said to her council. 

Ser Barristan Selmy, Hizdahr zo Loraq, Mollono Yos Dob who came on the council upon Mossador's execution, Missandei and Beron Stark were seated at the table. Grey Worm stood nearby while Jon was seated further away, next to the window.

"Your Grace, his execution is long overdue. When we remember Mossador..." Hizdahr began but Dany cut him off: "I remember him well enough. Mossador was one bitter man and not among the leaders of a whole masked army wanting to depose me." 

"That alone is reason enough to have him beheaded as soon as possible." head of Loraq family said.

"You seem very eager to have your fellow nobleman killed." Beron noted. "He is a traitor of our queen, not my fellow nobleman." Hizdahr asnwered.

"I have to agree with Hizdahr zo Loraq. Zikhar must die..." Mollono said in stern voice "...so that people of Meereen could see that no matter how high born, any Son of the Harpy will meet the same fate." 

"Then we have once master and once slave speaking in favor of swift execution of Zikhar mo Zhak... Ser Barristan, what say you?" she turned to old knight.

"Trial him, my queen. Let all of Meereen see what your foes truly are." Selmy told her. "Lord Beron?" Dany asked next.

"I agree with Ser Barristan. As nobleman Zikhar deserves a trial, deserves to be judged by his own but also by once slaves." Stark told her.

"Prince Aegon?" she said to Jon formally. "Take his head off, I say. I see no use of this trial." came the reply which made Selmy to frown. 

"Missandei?" Dany's eyes went to her Naathi advisor. "Your Grace, I am not..." 

"All that sit on my council have both right and obligation to say what they think... therefore..." 

"Trial him, Your Grace. Trial same as executioner's blade are part of Queen's justice." 

"So... three would have me to behead Zikhar before sundown of this day, three would have me to trial him. In that case, I have to trust my first thought and put him on public trial, five days from today. That is enough time to find two judges. One once master, one once slave. And me as third judge." 

When council was dismissed and all others have left the room, she walked to Jon: "You have a talent of a proper mummer, you know that... You've fooled even Ser Barristan." 

"My father was good at singing, mayhaps I am good at pretending." he said wrapping his arms around her. 

"I trust Hizdahr will not be at ease now." Dany spoke as they have stepped out on the chamber's balcony beneath the canvas shade.

"No, he has every reason to fear how this trial will go on... to fear will Zikhar betray them all to keep his head on the shoulders." Jon agreed.

"He's done that already. Not that Hizdahr is aware of it." she grinned contently. "No, as far as he knows, poor Zikhar is being flayed alive in the dungeons." Jon chuckled.

"You think that fear will make Hizdahr to make his move?" Dany asked and got him to nod: "I do. He cannot reach Zikhar here, but during trial... one man with a small blade is all that it takes."

"I plan to arrest Hizdahr the very moment Zikhar accuses him. And he will." 

"He sure will, Dany. Once he sees him sitting as one of the judges..." "You think that Hizdahr will appoint himself as judge?" 

"Of course he will. He trusts that will prove him as your loyal servant, obeying your wish to trial your enemy and should Sons of the Harpy try to kill Zikhar during trial to silence him, Hizdahr being judge is best mask he could wear at that moment." 

Daenerys nodded, then smiled at Jon: "We're getting better a this... at ruling, don't we?" 

He cupped her face with his hands: "I love you. I never believed that I will love anyone as much as I love you, Daenerys Stormborn. We win or we lose, we raise or we fall, but we do it together." 

She was left with no words, instead she embraced him as tight as she could: "You are my love, you are my life, you are my king. Now and always." 

Then she let out a painful sigh and backed away from Jon, her eyes went down and she placed hand on her slightly swollen belly, breathing deeply. 

"What is it? Dany?" Jon's voice trembled, his face becoming pale. 

"It's nothing... it's that heaviness again... it comes always when we're together." 

"It does. And I think I have found a reason why..." he said to her and kissed her brow "...when sun sets you and I are going beneath this pyramid." 

She looked at him. "Yes, Dany, time has come to undo the wrong." 

They walked down the steep stone stairs, once the round heavy stone block was removed from the entrance by the Unsullied who stood watch there. Jon raise his eyes to the massive arches which held the ceiling of this dark place. This was one of the vaults beneath the pyramid, some were used as cisterns, other as dungeons or torture chambers were once slaves were flogged or maimed. Sun was just setting and daylight was coming inside, but she could see less and less with every new step. Jon halted his pace as sound of chains dragging on the stone floor was heard in the dark. Dany made two more steps and called out: "Viserion! Rhaegal!" Silence lingered for a heartbeat of two, then a blast of Viserion's fiery breath came from the far corner of the vault, lighting up the room and revealing Rhaegal who stood not even six feet from her and then he snapped at silver-haired queen. She stepped back, frightened. 

Both dragons were now coming at her, letting out bursts of fire. "Easy, easy..." Dany was saying to them, trying to calm them, but they kept on approaching. Jon stepped in front of her, to shield her from them and shouted:

"Rhaīgal! Keligon! Keligon! Naejot dāez ao emi māzigon... rȳbagon naejot nyke." ( _Rhaegal! Stop! Stop! To free you we have come! Listen to me!_ )

Green-bronze dragon turned at Jon, his mouth was wide open and ball of flame was coming from his throat. Dany sighed and grabbed Jon's arm to pull him back, but dark-haired Targaryen stood his ground.

"I know you are angry to be chained here. But you will not harm your mother. And I trust you will not harm me either." he said as calmly as he could, though Dany felt slight tremble in his voice.

Rhaegal closed his jaws, growling. His head was now mere inches from Jon, bronze eyes staring at grey eyes. "Do you know me now?" Jon asked and got a slight purr as response.

"Good. Your mother has something to tell you." he said before stepping aside, allowing Dany to step closer to her dragon: "Shijetra nyke, Rhaīgal." She asked forgiveness in language of her ancestors.

Green dragon gently nuzzled at shoulder, purring. Daenerys reached for the collar around his neck and soon Rhaegal was free as his restraints fell from his neck, clanging on the floor. Viserion came from the other side, without making a sound. He was calm now, waiting for his turn to be unchained. She stroked his neck where collar stood just few moments ago and the white dragon was purring contently now as well. 

"Māzigon. Iksā dāez." ( _Come. You are free._ ) she told them and began to walk towards the entrance, holding hands with Jon. Dragons followed, letting out sounds of excitement. 

"Gods, I hope they are not angry anymore, we have turned our backs to them." Jon said as they climbed up the stairway.

"As you have said, they will never harm me. Nor you. They are content now." Dany replied with certainty.

When they came outside, she said to the guards to quickly walk away. Rhaegal was first to emerge from the vault and he was now spreading his jade-green wings, looking at the evening sky. Viserion followed and his wings were spreading as well. Both dragons were now screeching, but unlike the mournful cries Dany heard when she locked them beneath the pyramid, these were sounds of purest joy. White dragon folded his wings and his golden eyes met hers.

"Sōvegon." she said smiling at Viseron and soon he shot up from the ground, aiming high, but his flight was clumsy as he had not flown for weeks. Rhaegal looked up, where his brother has gone and Dany expected him to fly away, even higher. Still, green dragon turned to Jon nearing his head to Jon's chest. Last man of House Targaryen scratched the dragon which was named after his father under the chin making the beast to purr aloud. She watched that, both surprised and pleased. 

"I've missed you too, boy... I call Ghost boy, so you will not be offended if I call you the same. You are free now. Free to roam the skies. Free to feed, but not on the flesh of men. You know that your mother and I will have need of you and of your brothers. That call you must answer when it comes." 

A loud growl came from Rhaegal, as dragon was confirming Jon's words. Then he nuzzled at Dany's shoulder once again and then with two wing flaps he was off the ground, climbing high over the city, where Viserion has already circled. 

"This was the right thing to do, Dany." Jon said to her when he saw her worried gaze. 

"I know it was. Still, I fear..." "That they could burn another child. They will not. I'm certain of it." 

"No, Jon, I fear they could fly half the world away from me." 

"They will not. Did Drogon? He's remained in Slaver's Bay. So will Rhaegal and Viserion remain near you." 

"Rhaegal will remain near you. You have bonded with him. And I am glad you did." 

"Come, my queen, it is time for us to rest." Jon said to her softly. 

As they climbed to the uppermost floor of the Great Pyramid, she felt no heaviness that troubled her for days. And she knew what took that heaviness away.


	24. BARRISTAN

[_https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uleMYE0eWg0_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uleMYE0eWg0)

Archived WGA Script Confirms "Mad Queen Daenerys" is NOT the Real Ending - Game of Thrones (Part 1), a good 87 minute analysis 

Dragon Demands is a YT channel that really deconstructs Dan&Dave and all their dumbness

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**BARRISTAN**

_"...the eunuch should never have been pardoned."_

Daughter of late lord Eddard Stark was one of most eager trainees he had ever seen. Mayhaps even the most eager. She moved gracefully and slashed swiftly with her thin blade, one forged to likeness of Braavosi swords. She danced as bravos as well. It was not perfect skill, far from it, yet neither was she a beginner. Arya Stark was a willful girl, not unlike the ruler he was sworn to. Still, not dragon queen nor wolf maiden were sort of woman to capture his heart. Daenerys had the same eyes, Arya had the same hair, but there was only one lady Ashara Dayne, who died almost twenty years ago. It was not a memory he gladly visited.

"Ser, I'd like to hear how you slew Maelys the Monstrous..." girl's voice ended his pondering.

He sighed: "It was forty years ago. I was a young man then, only few years older than your brother, the prince. I am not certain if I can tell the tale as it truly was." 

"He was the last of the Blackfyres." Arya said.

"Last of male line, yes..." he confirmed. "Was he truly monstrous as book said?" she asked.

"Twice a kinslayer. First time he has eaten his twin in the womb, only small head remained sprouting from his neck. Second time he murdered his own cousin for command of the Golden Company. He tore his head right off from his shoulders."

"And you've killed him in single combat." Arya added, not without awe. 

"I have. For that I was named to the Kingsguard. I was three and twenty. I will tell you of War of the Ninepenny Kings one day. One day, but not this day." 

“I would like to hear of all your wars and battles... I want to learn from you."  
He smiled at her as she were his granddaughter: "I am honored that you hold me in high esteem."

"One should beware of an old man in a trade where men usually die young...” Arya said with nod of courtesy.

"I reckon that saying is right, my lady." 

"I am not a..." she was about to say, but he nodded smiling: "You're not a lady. Yes, you've told me so few times before. But I would not be a true knight should I not call you with title which is yours by birth. Your father was a lord and a man of great honor. That makes you a lady to me."

She shrugged: "I cannot argue with that, Ser. Though I truly prefer to be called Arya."

"Shall we continue, lady Arya?" Barristan asked. "We shall." 

"I believe that I have found a way to make peace between Westerosi style of sword fight and one of Braavos and we shall use it for your training. We shall use a shortsword of the Unsullied, it's about the same length as your thin blade. And if need be, we can have few inches added in the smithy. There are some good smiths here in Meereen." 

"Why can't I train with the Needle?" was the girl's question.

"Your Needle cannot thrust much through any sort of armor, lady Arya. You need a blade that can." 

"All right, Ser. I'll train with the shortsword." she agreed.

"You're very eager to master the sword, the spear, the bow. And I dare say you learn from the best in all three. May I ask from where that eagerness comes?"

"I have a list." Arya replied dryly.

"Of weapons you want to wield?" 

She shook her head: "Of those I want to kill." Old knight's widened before he asked: "How long is that list?" 

Arya recited: "Cersei, Walder Frey, Meryn Trant, the Red Woman, Beric Dondarion, Thoros Of Myr, Illyn Payne, The Mountain..." 

Barristan looked at her with open mouth: "Thoros? Gregor Clegane? Illyn Payne?"  
Stark girl shrugged: "Joffrey and Tywin were on my list also, but they are dead now." 

"My lady, that is a list long, it could last for years." 

"Patience and time I have more than enough, Ser Barristan."

"Thirst for vengeance can keep one living on, lady Arya, but it is a bitter drink and you have your whole life before..."

"Ser Barristan! Ser Barristan!" man's voice cut him in the middle of sentence. It was one of Beron's sellswords, he rode in the ground level of Great Pyramid. 

"What is it?" he asked.

"Ship came from Volantis an hour ago. Two passengers from Westeros came ashore with the others. An odd looking pair. One is fat with no hair on his head, other has scar across his face and is a damn dwarf..."

"A dwarf?" Arya blurted. Sellsword replied: "Yes. But he talks in fancy way and never stops talking, yet his companion keeps his mouth shut." 

"Have they given you their names?" Barristan asked.  
Man chuckled: "They did. Half-man and eunuch. I asked them are they travelling jesters and dwarf said he is, but that he is unsure of his companion to be one..."

"Where are they now?" was his next question as he exchanged glances with Arya.

"Under our watch in the port." man of Company of the Wolf said.

"Bring them here. I want to see them both. Do not let them out of your sight." 

"Ser Barristan, what danger can come of a dwarf and eunuch?" sellsword asked. 

"Young man, if them turn out to be the two I fear they are... safest is to bring them here with swords and spears aimed in their backs." 

"It will be done so, Ser." man replied and soon was gone, riding back to the port.

"Lady Arya... are Tyrion Lannister and lord Varys on your list?" he asked the Stark girl.

"No... I've seen them both, one in Winterfell and other in King's Landing. You think it is them?" 

He nodded and then said pensively: "Word came from Westeros of lord Tyrion killing Tywin. His own father. And how his sister offered a lordship to anyone who'd bring him to her. Imp fleeing as far east as Meereen... it makes some sense."

"And Varys?" Arya asked. "Some reports said he helped Tyrion to escape from the dungeons of the Red Keep. Some claimed he vanished. We shall soon know." 

"Guards will bring them to you."

"No, I don't plan to meet those two right away. I'll know if they're truly Varys and Imp even from afar."

"What then?" 

"Then, lady Arya, they will meet our queen." 

First man was plump, bald and unmanly. Barristan gazed at him from inside the ground level of Great Pyramid. Last time they have met was soon after Joffrey Baratheon took the throne. In his mind, Selmy recalled Varys' words:

" _We have nothing but gratitude for your long service, Ser. You shall be given a stout keep beside the sea with_ _servants to look after your every need."_ And he remembered what he told the eunuch:

" _A hole to die in and men to bury me."_

Today he was not in his rich silks and slippers, he was wearing an attire of merchant from Free Cities, but there was no doubt of that man being Varys. The master of whisperers on the small council of King Robert Baratheon. And the Mad King before him.

His travelling companion was a dwarf, that was plain to all, even to a man with only traces of wit. It was some time since Barristan saw the youngest child of lord of Casterly Rock and this man at first glance did not resemble Lord Tywin's Bane as smallfolk of Westerlands have called Tyrion of House Lannister since he was born, among other names he earned in his lifetime. And that one name turned out to be prophetic as Imp indeed has proven himself to be his father's bane. This man who stood in the courtyard of the Great Pyramid of Meereen had a messy hair and beard which only partly hid the scar which went across his face. The clothes he wore were plain, white shirt over which he donned dark-yellow linen overcoat. He had a hood over his head but was made to remove it by the Unsullied guards to which Company of the Wolf handed him and Varys over.

"Ser Barristan?" Arya who stood by him said in near whisper. 

"It's Varys, that is certain. I am not sure of the dwarf though." 

"I am. That is the Imp. He has a beard and that ugly cut on his face, but it is him." 

"Then I am going to inform the Queen of their presence. My lady, you should go find lord Beron." 

"Jon also needs to know of them." she reminded him.

"I trust that I will Prince with Her Grace." 

"I agree with you on finding new purpose for lesser pits, Dany, but do not haste with the great ones." 

Voice of Prince Aegon was first Lord Commander of the Queensguard has heard coming on the apex terrace. Young Targaryen couple was seated in the shade with map of Meereen spread on the table before them. They shared bowl of assorted fruits while discussing plans for the future of the city. Barristan liked what he saw, young Queen and young Prince sharing their thoughts and counselling one another. They loved each other, that was clear to all in the royal pyramid, that love was deep and has made a strong bond between last scions of house of the dragon. From that love great mutual respect and understanding grew between Daenerys and Aegon Targaryen and though both were impulsive and quarrels between the two came and went as summer hailstorms, old knight saw in them ability to achieve greatness, to restore their House to the place which was lost because of one who achieved madness. Only three days have passed since Mother of Dragons has released Rhaegal and Viserion, heeding advice of her beloved, and Selmy already saw change in her behavior, gone was the fatigue she felt and Daenerys Stormborn was again that young vibrant monarch he knelt before in Astapor. 

"I am not reopening the pits, Jon, no matter how great or small they are. I am not bending before those who relish in men, women and children fighting to the death." 

"You need not to reopen them, just let them be, let them remain closed, but do not turn them into something else." Prince said gently placing grape in her mouth.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked, returning the gesture which made him kiss her hand.

"Whether we like it or not, fighting in the pits is tradition of this city and once masters and once slaves keep it the same. To remove tradition takes time. Or one does not remove it at all." 

She frowned: "You advise me to tolerate fighting pits. It disgusts me, this tradition of Meereen you speak of, Jon. They feed children to beasts in the pits... how can I allow that?" 

"You do not allow it. You're the Queen of this city and of Slaver's Bay. But, you do not remove their ways entirely..." 

Her eyes narrowed: "Continue..." 

"My mother's forebearer has knelt before my father's forebearer. Did Aegon Targaryen asked of Torrhen Stark to abandon the old gods or any other way of the North? Did he asked of southerners to abandon the Faith of the Seven?" 

"He did not, but Targaryens save Baelor the Blessed were never into religion of any sort that much... I am not certain if I believe in any gods." 

"Well, I will marry you before the old gods. No matter how long I have to wait, but I will. We shall say our wows in godswood of Winterfell." prince said running his hand through her silver tresses. 

Daenerys chuckled: "I was planning to be your wife much sooner than that..." which made Aegon to shrug: "I don't mind us having more ceremonies, but our children will be born in wedlock." 

Barristan could see, standing many feet away, that face of his queen got a glow upon hearing these words. Thought of Targaryen heirs made old knight to smile as well. He was about to made his presence clear to them, but Queen asked:

"What should I do with this tradition then? I would like to wipe it away as it never were. But I know that is not possible. So, what should I do?"

"Be wise. That is what you should do."

"Aegon Targaryen, that is not an answer." she said, slight irk present in her voice.

"No, but hear me out. To be wise means that you could give them what they want and get what you want. A middle ground which will also strip the Sons of the Harpy from chance to use Meereenese love for fighting pits against us."

"Go on..." she told him.  
"Forbid the fight to the death, forbid children and old folk from taking part in the fights, promise abundant rewards to the champions... we could make their festivities to seem more as tourneys in Westeros."

"Men used to die in tourneys as well. You know that Prince Baelor died at one tourney from the hand of his own brother Maekar." she reminded him.

"I do. That took place during trial of seven, not in the tourney. But I know what you mean... Dany, my counsel to you is to open only the great fighting pits, one or two, under new rules. No murdering of those that cannot fight to amuse the crowds and no killing of the vanquished once they have yielded. There will still be blood on the sand, but many folds less. And now Meereen will have free men dueling, not slaves.  
Try offering these terms. Should they refuse, then close every single pit." 

"A well given counsel, my prince..." she smiled at him "...I will ponder upon it. Now, I intend to turn one of the lesser pits near the Pyramid of Uhlez into market place and the other into stables for horses and camels from the caravans which come into city from the south and east..."

Barristan at last stepped out for them to be able to see him: "Your Grace, Prince Aegon..."

She looked at him wondering: "Ser Barristan, are things in order?" while dark-haired Targaryen's face got stern in a heartbeat. Selmy's face spoke enough.

"My queen, two men have come ashore from Volantene merchant ship. One of them and I am sure of it is Varys, spymaster of Red Keep. And the other claims to be Tyrion Lannister." 

Young rulers exchanged glances and then Daenerys Stormborn gave her order to Ser Barristan Selmy.

Throne room was eerily silent. 

Double line of the Unsullied stood around the throne stairway atop which were Missandei, Grey Worm and Lord Commander of Queensguard, helm covering his face. Stone bench that was throne of Meereen was empty, queen was not there yet. Two men were standing few feet away from the first or the eighteenth stone stair, depending from where one would begin the count. Selmy studied them both through the eye-slit. Varys had remained the same since he saw him last, more than two years ago. The short figure next to him resembled more to the Imp, but still Barristan had doubts. This man's hair was long overdue for washing, beard for trimming and he seemed more as a commoner drunk craving for a flagon than son of the mighty Lannister lions. Room was silent as the grave, he could not tell if it lasted for quarter of an hour or three quarters. Only then Naathi girl made one pace forward and recited in calm voice:

"Here enters Her Grace Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons..."

It made Varys and the dwarf to turn around and watch how young silver-haired woman passes next to them guarded by four of the Unsullied. Daenerys was true image of dragon queen today, in black and dark-red dress with her hair styled in single braid. She did not give a single look at the two strangers who looked at her in what one could not call with no other name but awe. She calmly climbed up the stone stairway and took her place on the throne.

"Here enters Aegon of House Targaryen and House Stark, Prince of Dragonstone..." 

Young man dressed all in black, save the waist sash that displayed two crimson dragons, entered next from the other side, armed with sword and dagger. Varys turned to that side in disbelief, while one standing next to him had his mouth open, his lips moving to form words: _Jon Snow...._ As he reached the last stair, young queen gestured him with her eyes and he sat next to her on the stone bench. 

"Here enter lord Beron of House Stark of Pentos and Arya of House Stark, lady of Winterfell." 

Two Starks entered together, both armed with their blades and dressed in white-grey, direwolf sigil on their left chest. Varys' eyes narrowed as he saw Beron, while dwarf's jaw has now wholly dropped. Beron and Arya took their place on each side of the throne, she stood next to Barristan, while Beron was now between Missandei and Grey Worm.

Daenerys gave one long look at the strange pair before saying: "So, from what I was told, it appears how Spider and a little lion have wandered into dragon's lair..."

"And into wolf's den, as it appears..." dwarf added, making bald man standing next to him to roll his eyes.

"It has been some time since we saw each other last, lord Beron." Varys said. "Indeed it has. We were both younger men in simpler times." 

"Times were never simple, mayhaps it was your youth that made it appear so... lady Arya..." Varys politely bowed but dark-haired girl returned no courtesy.

Queen's eyes were glued to Tyrion: "How do I know you are who you say you are?" 

"If only I were otherwise..." he answered, with a sigh. 

"If you truly are Tyrion Lannister why shouldn't I kill you to pay your family back for what it did to mine..."

"If you want revenge against the Lannisters, I killed my mother Joanna Lannister on the day I was born. I killed my father, Tywin Lannister, with the bolt to the heart. I am the greatest Lannister killer of our time." 

"That makes you a kinslayer and not a man worthy of my or anyone's trust..." she replied before turning to the other man: "Lord Varys... spymaster of the Usurper. Was he the one charged with my assassination, Ser Barristan?"

"He was, Your Grace..." Selmy said removing his helm which made eunuch to nod: "My birds were right as ever when they sang of you being in service of Queen Daenerys. It is good to see you again, Ser." 

"Your birds? Your spies, you mean. As Ser Jorah Mormont was. You've sent that wine merchant to the Western Market of Vaes Dothrak, to poison me and my unborn child. Do not insult me with your denial." 

"I will not deny it, Your Grace." Varys answered.

"For twenty years you were the man leading the campaign to find and kill me, both for the Usurper and the bastard son of his lion queen that succeeded him." she hissed at him.

"And for twenty years that campaign has failed. No one's fortune lasts twenty years..." Varys said.

"Are you about to tell me how you were undermining yourself for all that time?" 

"Your Grace, I suspect Varys is the main reason you weren't slaughtered in your crib." Tyrion added. 

"Should I be thankful for that? You have served my father, lord Varys, later you have served the man who overthrew him and climbed the Iron Throne while the blood of your king and his grandchildren has not yet dried off. Then, many years later you watched how a bastard boy takes the crown of Seven Kingdoms and beheads an honorable man, man whose daughter, nephew and cousin are here with me. And you've brought with you brother of the man who killed my father. Brother who married the other daughter of lord Eddard Stark so that lions could steal Winterfell same as they have stolen the Iron Throne. Please, give me one good reason why I should not have you killed right away... no...  
make it two reasons for I may not be pleased with the first one." 

A heartbeat of silence and then Varys spoke first: "It is true, Your Grace, I have served three kings, your sire who truly was a madman, then a lustful drunk and a vicious boy. Lord Tyrion and I journeyed here from Pentos, from home of my friend Illyrio Mopatis whose hospitality you have once enjoyed. Illyrio and me and some other people saw Robert Baratheon as a disaster he was. We tried to do what was best for the Realm by supporting the Targaryen restoration. And thus began the chain of mistakes that has lead us both here. Things have gotten worse, not better... Westeros needs to be saved from itself... And only blood of the dragon is strong enough to do it. When a letter came to me, from a man who was among your closest advisers, claiming that there is not one but two Targaryens in Slaver's Bay disputing each other I knew it was time to act. Though... prince Aegon Targaryen I knew of had Dornish blood, not that of First Men."

"You speak of my half-brother, one that was killed by Ser Gregor Clegane when he was a babe. One my mother, lady Lyanna Targaryen, named me after." Jon replied calmly.

"Lady Lyanna Targaryen??" Varys wondered.  
"Aye, my lord. My father never kidnapped my mother. They were man and wife, wed before the new gods. He fell on the Trident, she died birthing me." 

Varys seemed as he will stumble while Tyrion's eyebrows lifted: "So bastard of Winterfell was never a bastard... You are a dragon Ned Stark has hidden among the wolves..." He laughed upon saying that.

"Do you find Prince Aegon amusing? Or what he is saying to be false?" Daenerys asked in menacing tone.

"No, Your Grace. What amuses me is how lord Eddard Stark has raised a son of a man his king, Robert Baratheon, hated years after he slew him. Robert hated every Targaryen and one grew in Winterfell, shielded by his best friend."

"That speaks more of lord Stark than it does of the Usurper." Daenerys said and then continued:  
"And you, lord Tyrion Lannister, why have you journeyed here? Except to be safe from those hunting you for your sister..." 

The Imp sighed: "...when I was a young man I heard a story about a baby born during the worst storm in living memory. She had no wealth, no lands, no army, only a name and a handful of supporters, most of whom probably thought they could use that name to benefit themselves. They kept her alive, moving her from place to place, often hours ahead of the men who had been sent to kill her. She was eventually sold off to some warlord on the edge of the world and that appeared to be that..."

He looked at Varys next: "And then a few years later the most well informed person I knew told me that this girl without wealth, lands, or armies had somehow acquired all three in a very short span of time, along with three dragons. He thought she was our best, last chance to build a better world. I thought you were worth meeting at the very least..."

"You have a way with words, I give you that. A better world... what gave you the notion I aim to build a better world?" Daenerys asked.

"Knowledge how you have ended slavery in part of the world which knew nothing but slavery." Tyrion replied.

"Slavery is evil. I have fought it and I have ended it so that no child in this part of the world would ever know what it meant to be bought or sold. And I will fight anyone trying to bring that evil back... But, there are no slaves in Westeros, am I right?"

"No, Your Grace. Slavery was gone from Seven Kingdoms for centuries..." Varys nodded.

"So, House Targaryen has one less evil to fight when we cross the Narrow Sea. And we shall cross it. Sooner than our enemies expect." she said in stern voice.

"Whom do you see as your enemies?" came from Tyrion.

"All those that have blood of my father's family on their hands. And all those that have blood of my mother's family on their hands." dark-haired prince told him.

"That is quite a few men." Lannister answered.

"Then we have quite a work ahead of us. What you must is convince Queen Daenerys and me why should we remove you from that quite a few." 

"We are not your enemies, Prince." Varys countered.

"You're not our friends either. Nor allies. To trust a kinslayer and a spymaster... we may be young dragons, but we're no fools. What do you offer us?" 

Tyrion made one cautious pace forward and spoke to Daenerys: "When I served as Hand of the King, I did quite well, considering the king in question preferred torturing animals to leading his people. I could do an even better job advising a ruler worth the name, if that is indeed what you are." 

"Advise me? I have men..." she looked at Arya "...and women around me who are Westerosi same as you, whom I trust and whose counsel I hold in high regard. What use to me is your advice? You admit killing your own father and you were accused of kingslaying as well, king which also was your kin."

"My father and my nephew were both evil men. But I have not killed Joffrey, though oft I wish I did." 

Daenerys' eyes narrowed: "Lord Tyrion Lannister, you shall remain in the Great Pyramid. As a prisoner in a chamber suitable your noble birth. Your fate shall be decided in due time. Gūrogon zirȳla qrīdrughagon." she ordered the Unsullied to take the Imp away. Barristan's face remained serious and stern, though he would gladly smile in approval.

Spider remained alone and as much as he tried to hide is unease, it was there. 

"Do you offer your advice as well, my lord?" prince Aegon asked. 

"No, my prince. I have something far more valuable to offer, should you let me live." 

"And what is that?" Daenerys asked. 

"The Golden Company, Your Grace." 

Beron Stark chuckled: "Since when are they yours to offer, Spider?" 

"They're not mine. They are Queen's. My friend Illyrio Mopatis and I negotiated with their captain-general Harry Strickland. As we speak the Golden Company is marching to Volantis to join with Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Meereen." 

"It is a long march from Volantis to Meereen, lord Varys..." Beron told him "...and slavers in First Daughter will hardly allow a sellsword host twenty thousand strong to join with Breaker of Chains." 

"They will, oh, trust me they will." Varys almost grinned.

"What makes you so certain?" prince asked. 

"They march to join with dragon queen. When they learn that dragon prince awaits them as well..."

"Awaits them? Golden Company was a Blackfyre host. I was raised as a Snow, but even so I've learned a lot of black dragon fighting red dragon." 

Varys nodded: "Prince is right. Yet, I shall repeat the words of Illyrio Mopatis - black or red, a dragon is still a dragon. And now Targaryen queen will give the exiles what Blackfyres never could. She will take them home."

Daenerys stood from her throne: "Your words are sweet, lord Varys. But so are many poisons. You shall join lord Tyrion in a chamber next to his. Until Targaryen queen and prince decide what to do with you. Should you or him try to flee from this pyramid... you will not live to see the dawn of the following day."


	25. JON

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**JON**

_"...law is the law."_

"I, Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, declare this trial to begin." 

Trial was arranged on the ground level of the Great Pyramid, with large canvas shades stretching over the courtyard where few scores of Meereenese citizens, both once masters and once slaves gathered to see the trial of a nobleman which for day was held prisoner after being denounced as one of main leaders of masked shadow army. A dais was raised, leaning on the pyramid walls where alongside queen sat two more judges, Hizdahr zo Loraq representing former slavers and Mollono Yos Dob for those once owned. Behind her stood Ser Barristan Selmy and Grey Worm, ever standing watch and on both sides of the dais, the Unsullied stood guard.

Jon was seated on the right of the dais, together with Beron and few other men and women of the court.

Zikhar who was seated on the chair beneath the dais responded. He was dressed in silk tokar in the colors of his family, his beard was trimmed, his hair cut short and face clean. No one could tell how home of this man for many days now was dungeon of the Great Pyramid. 

"Zikhar mo Zhak of that noble house, you shall be trialed for treason, for inciting rebellion and leading murderous campaign against loyal Meereenese. You shall be trialed as Son of the Harpy. Do you have anything to say before we commence?" 

Murmur sounded across the courtyard, yet it took only one stern gaze from the Queen for silence to be restored.

"I do, Your Radiance." he answered. "Speak." she said.

"You need not to trial me as Son of the Harpy. I am that." 

Another wave of murmur echoed across the yard, this time it was Grey Worm who ended it, barking: "Silence" in Low Valyrian of Meereen for crowd to shut up. 

"Was that an admission of guilt, my lord?" Daenerys asked.

"No, Your Radiance. It was admission of me being son of this city. And this is city of harpy, same as Slaver's Bay is bay of harpies. For generations men have lived and died under harpy's wings. Harpy stood on our banners, on our gates, on our pyramids. So, indeed, I am child of the harpy. Meereen is child of the harpy. Harpy is our mother."

Curses of once slaves and words of approval from once masters followed. It was no longer a murmur but a loud noise of disorder. Daenerys stood up and with slight nod gestured Grey Worm who pulled out his shortsword and began to beat his shield with it, other Unsullied followed him and soon their noise made the one crowd was making to die down. Queen raised her hand and beating on the shields ceased.

"One more outburst and this trial will continue without audience..."  
Then she turned to Zikhar: "Harpy is your mother, you say. Mother of Meereen. What sort of a mother has only one fourth of her children free and all other in chains?"

Upon saying those words, a thought must have come to her mind as her eyes went to Jon meeting his. He gave her a barely visible smile.  
 _You're not that sort of a mother, Dany, all of your children now roam free,_

Once slaves in the audience were nodding approvingly to her words, some even clapped. Former masters had sour faces, as they were on trial as well.

"Your forefathers, Queen Daenerys, had title Protector of the Realm. I was taught that from my teachers. Were they protecting both nobles and lowborn of Sunset Kingdoms the same?" Zikhar said.

Jon frowned at the audacity of this man, but Dany who was still standing on the dais replied calmly: "Not all of them. Those who did are still remembered fondly by both nobles and commoners alike. Which one of your ancestors is remembered fondly among slaves of Meereen, Zikhar mo Zhak?"

As he could not answer, she said: "I thought that much... you were brought before this trial, my lord, for you were part of an army that moves in the shadows, strikes from the dark, crawls in the gutter, stabs as cravens, all in order to restore the world of your harpy mother. World that I have ended. Not only were you part of that army, you were one of its main commanders. Or your claim this is not true?" Her last words were said as she was taking her seat again.

"No, it is not true." Zikhar answered in a heartbeat.

"Your Grace, you should have him gagged for calling you a liar." Hizdahr spoke for the first time.

"There is still time for that..." young queen told him and asked Zikhar: "Are you calling me a liar?" 

"No, I am only saying that all you have said is not true." 

"What part would that be, my lord?" 

"That army you speak of has only one main commander. All others do his bidding."

"All others? What all others?" Mollono Jos Dob asked.

"Other lesser commanders as I was." Zikhar replied. 

Sighs of surprise came from the audience as accused has again admitted that what he was accused of.

"Zikhar mo Zhak, have you just confirmed what this trial has charged you with?" Daenerys asked.

"I have, Your Radiance. I am... to be exact I was leader of the Harpy's Sons in east Meereen." 

"And those others you speak of, other lesser leaders?" was her next question.

"You will find them in house of Dhazak, house of Hazkar, house of Merreq, house of Quazzar, house of Uhlez and house of Yherizan." he nearly recited.

As Zikhar was speaking, loud noises broke out from the part of the crowd made from nobles, curses, some were calling him traitor, some asked for his head, but Jon saw few of them rushing to the courtyard gates, trying to leave this trial. They did not get far as his men, wearing grey and white overcoats appeared and soon every one of those was roped and taken to the dungeons. 

"Your Grace, this rebel and traitor is now accusing all the noble families of this city in this feeble attempt to save himself by placing blame on the others. I propose to pass the sentence and have his head on the walls. There should be no mercy for likes of him." Hizdahr said aloud. 

"I agree with you, Hizdahr zo Loraq. There should be no mercy for traitors, rebels and liars. Yet, I wish to hear how far is Zikhar mo Zhak ready to go with his claims... Tell me, my lord, do you hope to obtain mercy from this trial or me by accusing others?" 

"No, Queen Daenerys. I knew what sentence awaited me the moment I was caught."

"Then why are you doing this? Denouncing others?" 

"To save my family." Zikhar said. Daenerys shook her head: "Your family is in no danger from me. I do not punish children for the sins of the father or parents for the sins of the son." 

"Dragon Prince, _zokla vala_. He does." he said looking at Jon who returned him a sight grin.

"Indeed, he does. Sometimes, when cruelty is needed. But he did not act so in your case. I gather your family is safe from him. Or do you fear someone else?" 

"My family will not be safe from the Sons of the Harpy as well. They will take their lives as punishment for I allowed to be caught. That is what I want to prevent." 

"Your Grace... surely you do not believe what this criminal..." Hizdahr began to speak, but she cut him: "I decide what to believe or not to believe. Let the accused to finish." 

Crowd in the courtyard was growing more and more restless as she exchanged words with Zikhar, nobles were enraged and if there were stones at their disposal accused would be hit many times already. Freedmen would give the same courtesy to the nobles as well, they gazed at that part of the audience seeking Sons of the Harpy among them. From both sides, the Unsullied, Company of the Wolf and former Second Sons were filling the yard, ready to chase the crowd away should things turn for the worse. Jon's hand rested on the hilt of his sword now.

"Zikhar mo Zhak, you were my prisoner for weeks and your family was not attacked by Harpy's Sons. Then why do you fear your masked companions will do so. They have not done it by now."

"They weren't ordered to do so. Only one man can order Sons of the Harpy to attack the great house." came the answer to Dany's question.

"Only one man?" she asked next. Jon noticed Hizdahr shifting in his chair while Mollono Jos Dob was leaned forward, eager to hear what accused will answer.

"The main commander, Your Radiance." Zikhar said.

"Who is he? Do you know him?" Mollono blurted out.

"I do. I know him very well." 

"Then say his name, Zikhar mo Zhak, for your judges and all present to hear." Daenerys ordered.

"I can do more than that. I can point at him." he said and raised his right hand, his forefinger aimed at the dais: "It is him, Hizdahr zo Loraq." 

Crowd erupted, shouts were coming from all sides. Hizdahr stood up and was yelling something at Zikhar, but Jon could not clearly hear what. All eyes went from accused to the judge representing former masters. 

"Your Grace... Your Grace..." he spoke to Daenerys loudly "...he lies! I want him punished for this insult! I want his tongue removed!" 

Daenerys looked at Hizdahr with her eyes narrowed. Jon knew what that meant. Soon she will give the Unsullied order to seize him and take him to the dungeons. 

Yet before she was able to speak, Hizdahr suddenly fell backwards, he was pinned to his seat by an arrow. 

"Protect the Queen!" Jon shouted, though it was nearly a scream as he charged at Dany to shield her with his body. Ser Barristan and Grey Worm hurried towards Daenerys as well, but he was faster: "Quickly! Inside the pyramid!"

"What happened?" she asked in disbelief.

"Arrow... hurry." he said as they were running inside the pyramid, the Unsullied covering their retreat with shields. As Dany was inside, Jon turned back to the courtyard. Audience was running away in disorder, some using the gates, other going over the four feet high wall. He saw Zikhar touching his neck. There was blood on his fingers and nobleman looked befuddled. Two of the Unsullied were about to bring him inside the pyramid and he went with them obediently, but after only few paces he stumbled, fell on his knees and his mouth began to foam. The very next moment he was face down on the ground shaking violently half a dozen times. Then he was still and blood came from his mouth.

 _Poison_ , flashed in Jon's mind. Beron was still on the dais looking at dead Hizdahr who was as nailed to the chair, while four of his men provided the shield wall around him. He pulled the arrow from the body and looked at it. Then he came inside as well, making large paces. Before that he glanced at Zikhar's corpse.

"Impressive. Truly impressive." Beron said to his cousin showing him the arrow.

"What?" Jon wondered. 

"One arrow from a distance, I dare say over sixty yards, from higher ground. Curved broadhead. It grazed Zikhar just enough to poison him and it killed Hizdahr where he stood. Two kills with one shot. A well trained archer. And finest marksman."

"Gods... Daenerys..."

"That archer wasn't aiming at her, Jon. He was after Zikhar. And when he pointed out Hizdahr, he killed them both." 

"His arrow killed the main commander of Harpy's Sons." Jon said. 

Beron made few steps towards the entrance of the Great Pyramid, he was now looking at the empty courtyard, chairs and benches were overturned by the crowd which fled in disarray, two dead bodies were still there, only the sound of canvas shades moving on the light breeze was disrupting the silence. Stark looked at Hizdahr, then across the yard and further, at the first line of neighboring houses. Jon walked to him:

"Be careful. He might still be on one of those roofs." 

"No... he was gone the moment Zikhar fell. And he was not on the roof. Those canvas shades would block his aim..." Beron told him and then pointed with his hand: "There, see that cypress tree between those houses. He climbed the lower branches, that was high enough for him to hit Zikhar in the neck. But, to graze one man's neck and kill the other. That is true master of archery." 

"Since when Sons of the Harpy have such skilled bowmen?!" Jon was still wondering.

"They do not, from all we know of them they do not. They must have paid a foreign archer to come to Meereen." 

"Foreign? From where?" he asked impatiently.

Beron shrugged and looked at the arrow again: "What I can tell you, not from Westeros or the Free Cities, I know arrows, arrowheads and fletchings that are made on both sides of the Narrow Sea. This one was made elsewhere. East from here..." 

"East?" Jon looked at his kinsman.

"Mayhaps beyond the Bone Mountains, where they breed only women warriors. Or in the lands of Yi Ti. I've heard stories of their archers and their bows. They've been hiding their bowmanship secrets from rest of the Known World for centuries." 

"That arrowhead is coated with poison. Give it to the healers. They could tell what sort of poison is it. I'll send men to bring the corpses inside, covered with shields from all sides." 

"All right..." Beron agreed "...but I am telling you, that archer is half across the city already." 

"Manticore venom..." he said to Daenerys as they were seated on a divan in their chambers holding hands "...it killed them both instantly. Though Hizdahr would have died anyway, by arrow itself." 

"It passed next to me, barely two feet away..." Dany said, he could see her thoughts reflecting in her eyes. It was not fear, it was anger. She could see the same in his.

"Are you all right?" Jon asked her, probably for the tenth time already. "I am. I am angered. So angered." 

"Dany, if someone would dare to harm you and our unborn, I swear to you by the old gods and the new and Valyrian gods although I do not know them... all the pyramids in this city will burn, somehow I will summon all your dragons and I will unleash them on Meereenese noble families."

"I know you would do that. I would do the same for you. But we must remain calm now. We must not act in rage and hastily. Yes, our enemies have challenged us, they've spat in our faces today. Though I'd never expect they would kill their main commander." 

Jon sighed: "That can only mean two things... Either he was not the main commander and killing him was not that much of a great price Sons of the Harpy had to pay. Or... and that is even worse... there is someone above the main commander, someone who could order both him and Zikhar killed." 

"It appears they knew Zikhar mo Zhak will betray them." Dany said upon hearing Jon's words. 

"Aye... not that it takes much wit to know that, Zikhar was a weakling. Hizdahr was cunning, but he too would have break in the dungeon. Nobles of this city are no warriors. Someone else, someone of an iron will moves this shadow army." 

"Whoever that is, I will feed him to my dragons." she hissed with disgust.

"I have sent the Unsullied to arrest all the families Zikhar accused of being leaders of Harpy's Sons. Every single man, woman and child. Dungeons are being very crowded as we speak." 

"You think the true leader of the enemy is not among those families?" Dany asked.

"I do now. We must look beyond once masters." 

"But where to look?" she wondered. "We shall ponder of it later. Now, I want you and our babe to rest. I am going to see how many prisoners have been brought to the Great Pyramid." 

He gently embraced her: "You know that I am ready to do vilest crimes to defend you and the child in your womb. I love honor, but I love my family more than anything." 

"I know. And I hope that you'll never have to dishonor yourself in defending us..." she placed her hand on her swollen belly. 

Jon kissed her brow and walked out of chamber and Queen's apartment. As he walked down the well-guarded corridor, thought came to his mind. He halted his pace and remained standing for a while.

Then he addressed the nearest of the Unsullied: "Find me Mollono Jos Dob." 


	26. BERON

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**BERON**

_"...Honor, men call it. Well, honor has its costs... and some learn it to their sorrow."_

"More wine?"

Mollono Jos Dob nodded and Stark of Pentos poured him one more cup of Arbor Gold. Wines of this part of Essos were shite, in Beron's opinion which he never failed to share with people of Slaver's Bay.

"I was surprised that you wanted to speak with me, lord Beron Stark." freedman said.

"To tell you the truth, it was my captain... Prince Aegon who wanted to have this talk, but I offered to do it myself..." 

Mollono frowned, while he continued: "...those who mislike Queen Daenerys are in right with one thing. Do you know what that is?"

"My lord, those who mislike Breaker of Chains are my foes. I can't think what they could be right about..."

"Yet, they are. They are right when they say she is not of this land. Nor is Dragon Prince, nor am I, nor are my men. Daenerys Stormborn will not stay here. You are aware of that, I hope."

"I know that throne of her forefathers is across the sea, in the Sunset Kingdoms, yes..." 

Beron nodded: "That is true. And her great wish is to sail there one day. She hopes that day will come soon. For Sunset Kingdoms are in great need of her. But, so is Meereen and Yunkai and Astapor. She will not leave here before proper rule takes a foothold in all three cities. Astapor, much to Queen's surprise, stands the best in that regard. Red City was properly cleansed of her foes. Yunkai has restored the council to Queen's liking though masters there are not wholly broken, but they wield no power now with Second Sons being gone. That leaves Meereen..." 

"Lord Beron, with most of noble families now being held prisoner in this pyramid, same cleansing that happened in Astapor will happen here. And then we shall have peace and rule as Her Grace wants it." 

"Shall we? Indeed?" Beron looked at Mollono with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not sure I understand..." Jos Dob said.

"I am sure you do. Former masters are not the only ones that stand in a way of Queen's peace in Meereen. And just rule for all." 

"My lord?" 

He leaned in his chair: "Twenty years ago I have served as an officer in a City Watch of King's Landing, city larger than this one is and I've learned to set apart truth from lies. Same as I've learned to set apart how things are from how they seem to be." 

Mollono looked at him with no words, his face marked with questions which made Beron to keep talking: "What happened yesterday at the trial, that archer killing not one, but two leaders of Harpy's Sons, it left me in awe. The way arrow poisoned them both at once and the way how our foes killed two of their leaders and thus removed the threat of Hizdahr and Zikhar betraying their whole shadow army..."

"Yes, my lord, that is so. I was surprised as well..." once slave nodded.

"...and then, Prince Aegon told me his doubts and that took my awe from me. It appears our foes are not that good as it seemed they are." 

"What are you saying, Beron Stark?" 

"I am saying how archer which released that arrow coated in manticore venom was not hired by Sons of the Harpy. That bow brought two deaths in the name of once slaves." Beron told him dryly.

"My lord, that is..." Mollono said excitingly, but he cut him: "That is only reasonable explanation, Mollono Jos Dob, and you know it, same as I do."

"I don't know anything of a sort..." he protested.

"It is impolite, telling lies to a face of a man whose wine you're drinking. Or acting as fool before him."

"It is not so..." Mollono said aloud.

"It is." Beron replied coldly "It is, Mollono Jos Dob. That archer.. at first I thought once masters brought him from outside of Slaver's Bay. I've forgot that there were slave archers in fighting pits. Precious few, but there were. Some were of Slaver's Bay, some were men from further east. Such would not serve former masters, not even for gold or silver, but gladly they'd answer the call of former slaves. And one such archer did. He was sitting on that cypress tree, waiting for his chance to strike down Zikhar and Hizdahr. And he did it, the moment one pointed out the other as main Harpy's Son the arrow was loose." 

Mollono shook his head: "My lord, are you and Dragon Prince accusing those that were once kept in chains of killing Hizdahr zo Loraq and Zikhar mo Zhak?" 

"Yes, I am. And he does. Not that he or I care much for either of them, but that arrow passed mere inches from a woman who removed the chains from you, from rest of the slaves in this city, from that archer... and you brought Breaker of Chains in peril. That is something Dragon Prince will not forgive. Nor will Queen Daenerys. That family is not of forgiving nature." 

"Prince Aegon's mind plays tricks on him... no former slave would ever threaten the life of our queen, she..." 

"She executed Mossador and some among those, whose voice you are on the council, have not forgiven her that. And, I advise you never to say to Prince Aegon that his mind is playing tricks. He has a temper of his own..."

Mollono emptied his cup, remained silent for a while and then said: "What does Queen and Prince expect of me?" 

"To do all you can in removing those among once slaves that want the same as Sons of the Harpy do, to wage war on the streets of this city until that brings its ruin. It ends now. You've seen how Prince deals with his enemies that were slavers once. He'll deal the same with once slaves should they choose the path of death and mayhem. Do not underestimate the resolve of the dragon blood." 

"Should I fail to deliver that what I am expected to?" Jos Dob asked.

Beron shrugged: "Jorah Mormont was on the council, he was banished. Mossador and Hizdahr were on the council, now they're dead. That should tell you enough of what failure brings." 

"Is that a threat?" 

"Merely a fact, Mollono Jos Dob, merely a fact. Queen Daenerys wants Meereen to be ruled by people of this city so that she can leave for her true kingdom, across the Narrow Sea. That rule in Meereen will not happen if those she had freed were to choose vengeance over wisdom. Your name has weight among former slaves. Use it. That is what your Queen commands you." 

Daenerys appeared in the throne room wearing ankle-length black dress with dark red lining and linen boots of same color. Over it she donned cuirass armor of dark-red leather, fashioned as dragon scales. She stood before her throne, Ser Barristan at her right side. Beron was standing with Arya few stairs below the stone bench that was throne of Meereen and could tell how his young cousin looks at silver-haired queen, dressed as she was today she must have seemed to Arya as Targaryen queens and ladies of old, those that were dragonriders, bringing dread or admiration to those on the ground beneath them. 

Today, Daenerys Targaryen was bringing dread to those beneath the throne stairway, heads of all the noble houses Zikhar mo Zhak called out as members or allies of Harpy's Sons. Beron could not tell with what eyes she was looking at them, was it disgust, hatred or burning wish to kill them all. Surely, violet eyes were marked with anger. It reminded him of her brother and even more of her father, though eyes of Aerys the Second were in his last years blurred by the illness of his mind. Eyes of his daughter were clear, same as her thoughts.

"Yherizan, Dhazak, Merreq, Hazkar, Uhlez, Quazzar and Loraq..." she named them all "...it would be safest for me, for Meereen and for Slaver's Bay to rip you out, root and stem. To kill your whole families."

Former masters, crowded beneath the throne, held at spearpoint by the Unsullied began to murmur with their eyes widened, though some stood defiantly and by their faces Beron could tell they were cursing and raping the young queen in their thoughts.

She continued: "...my father would have done it. Many of my forefathers would have done it. Lions of Casterly Rock, those that now usurp Targaryen throne, have a song that celebrates them destroying a whole family of their foes, every single one... But, I am a queen, not a butcher. Still, not being a butcher does not mean that I am a fool. Your faces may not be covered with masks, but you reek of Harpy, my lords. It smells from where you stand to where I stand and it is a vile smell, an odor that insults me." 

Those that were standing defiantly have remained so upon hearing her words. Beron respected those more, they were not trying to hide who they are. Others were shaking their heads and tried to plead, but they were forbidden to address the Queen and those who tried soon have felt cold steal of spear tip on their skin. That was enough to make them keep their silence.

"I will not remove your families from this world. Children should not answer for crimes of their fathers. But I will remove you." she said in cold voice.

"Are you going to nail us to mileposts as you have many of our kinsmen and friends..." man in colors of House Dhazak managed to hiss at her before he was struck down by one of eunuch soldiers. 

"I am not making martyrs from you, though not many of those that have died on mileposts were innocent men. You will be dealt with otherwise..." 

Daenerys stepped down, passing next to Beron and Arya who before noble prisoners were brought to throne room, said that she'd kill them all. Queen was now mere few feet away from heads of noble houses:

"Those who want to avoid the ruin of their whole families will step away from being leaders of their house, in favor of his oldest son or daughter. That son or daughter will swear loyalty to the queen and council of Meereen in perpetuity. You will also agree on banishment from Meereen for the rest of your life. Then you will be put aboard ship which will take you to Braavos. City founded by runaway slaves. There you will work as the rest of common folk. Being once slavers will not gain you much favor among the Braavosi so I advise you not to speak of it much. Refuse this offer and your house shall lose everything, being banished from eldest to youngest through the main city gate wearing only nameday suit. You've seen Prince Aegon doing so to your lowborn masked soldiers, he will relish in chance to do it to noble houses, make no mistake of it." 

"I'd rather go naked through the gates of Meereen than be at mercy of silver who..." fist of the Unsullied guard smacking in his mouth cut head of House Yherizan before he managed to utter insult to Daenerys Targaryen.

"So be it. my lord...." she said, looking at him with sheer disgust, as he spat blood "...take him away. Anyone else wanting to walk across the whole city with his cock bare and womanly bits of his wife, mother or daughters displayed for all of Meereen to see?" 

Others remained silent, their heads bowed. 

"Good. You have chosen the survival of your houses. Yet I warn you, should those that will take your place as head of the family keep providing means, shelter and men for Sons of the Harpy, they will meet the fate of Yherizans. A moon from now this shadow army... these masked bandits you have founded will be wholly removed from Meereen. Advise your heirs not to stand in the way of the new world." 

Then Daenerys turned to the officer of the Unsullied guards: "Take them away." 

As former masters were forced out of the throne room, she turned to Beron: "I trust this went very well..." He nodded, while Arya said dryly: "You should have killed them all. Those are foul men." 

Young queen smiled at her good-sister to be: "It has crossed my mind, more than once, but they will suffer more by toiling in harbor, on fishing boats or simply begging at the canals." 

Beron agreed: "Sending them to Braavos was wise, Your Grace. In any other of the Free Cities some of slaveholders there could have pity on banished Meereenese noblemen, but not Braavosi." 

"I've lived in Braavos, lord Beron... in a house with a red door..." her gaze briefly wondered away then she shrugged: "...it is of no use looking back. Lord Beron, see that all those prisoners who agree to renounce their lordship write and sign documents as proof of it. Then escort them to Braavosi ship in the harbor. Afterwards, we shall release their families. This is the last chance I am giving to those houses. And I'll make certain they know it." 

Ser Barristan was content how his queen handled this issue, but dark-haired Stark girl asked: "And if they continue to act as your... our enemies?" 

Daenerys answered, her violet eyes glowing: "Then Arya Stark of Winterfell, you shall witness how dragonflame melts down pyramids." 


	27. DAENERYS

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**DAENERYS**

_"...perhaps I'll have you killed after all..."_

"I'm not used of wearing armor... and before you say it, yes, I know it suits me well..." she said to Jon while they supped together on the apex terrace.

"I wasn't about to say that." he gave her a small grin.

Daenerys' eyes narrowed at his words: "You should treat your queen with more respect, _Aegon_."

They both chuckled, but then she sighed regretfully. "Dany?" Jon asked. 

"I'm all right. It's this letter that saddens me." "I know. It does same to me..." 

Braavosi ship that came to port of Meereen four days ago, the same vessel which will take away the nobles that have renounced their places as leaders of great houses, brought the letter from other side of the world for young queen. Both she and Jon have read it many times. She cried upon reading it and Jon, no matter how hardened man he now was, allowed his eyes to water. 

_To Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen.  
My dear great- grandniece, it has brought me great joy to learn of your accomplishments in Slaver's Bay, to learn how you're keeping the grip on that land despite foes from within and without, how you refuse to leave Meereen until freedom of former slaves is secured. It has told me about the strength of will you possess, no matter your youth and how you stand for those that cannot stand for themselves. Those were always the best traits of our family. Yet it has also brought me great sadness, knowing that you're alone in the foreign part of the world, with not family to guide you or protect you, that you must face all the challenges on your own with last relation thousands of miles away, old, blind and useless with not much life in me left. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing, great- grandniece Daenerys and I wish I could be there at your side, even this frail as I am now. Your great-grandfather's brother, Aemon of House Targaryen, maester of the Citadel and sworn brother of the Night's Watch._

"Aemon Targaryen?!" both she and Jon exclaimed upon reading the letter for the first time.

"He claims to be my great-grandfather's brother... that means he is brother of King Aegon the Fifth." Dany said excitingly.

"Seven hells... if he's maester with the Night's Watch... then he serves with my uncle Benjen..." Jon added "...Aegon the Fifth died more than forty years ago and he already had grandchildren when he died... surely Aemon is near his hundredth nameday, if not more." 

"Viserys spoke of him once or twice, he renounced the crown in favor of his brother Aegon, he was already maester then, bound with his wows. And then he took the black, as you say it. He joined the Night's Watch to move himself from his brother's path."

Jon remained silent for a while, then said to her: "He has seen many kings upon the Iron Throne. He's been a king's son, a king's brother, a king's uncle..." 

"He's also seen the fall of his House. And now he is troubled knowing of me and not being at my side. We shall write him back. I'll task that Braavosi captain to take the letter to the Wall, what was that place on the coast called?" 

"Eastwatch-by-the-Sea." Jon told her. "Yes, that is it. We shall tell him all in that letter. He must know about us." she said.

Jon agreed: "Aye, he is our blood. Though we've never met him and mayhaps we never shall, we owe him that much." 

After finishing their supper, Daenerys and Jon wrote the letter to their great-granduncle. They hoped it will reach Castle Black on the Wall, thousands of miles north and west from Meereen, while old Aemon is still drawing breath. It did, though she learned of it many moons later. After nearly nine weeks of travel, old dragon was listening to the words of young dragons, read to him by one of stewards, son of the lord of Horn Hill in the Reach. And his eyes, long bereft of sight, glowed with pride.

 _To Aemon of House Targaryen, maester of the Citadel and of the Night's Watch.  
Dear great- granduncle, we hope these words find you well. Your letter has brought us great joy and it pains us that you cannot be with us now. You have witnessed scores of years of our family's history, triumphs and failures both. You have lived to learn how our dynasty has fallen. There is no greater truth than one in your words, of Targaryen alone in the world being a terrible thing. Fear not, dear great- granduncle, it is not so in Meereen. Here, dragon born in the storm, one that was hiding in the east has found a dragon that was hidden under wolf skin and bastard name among his mother's pack. _ _You know what these words mean._ _Heirs of our house have joined and our fire is rekindled. Three dragons roam the skies of Slaver's Bay. Two walk the land here and have sired a third. His name will be Aemon. The day when we shall come for what is ours nears. Then we'll meet, if gods or fate will it so. We bear you great love and respect. Queen Daenerys and Prince Aegon of House Targaryen._

"I hope he'll understand our words." Dany said after reading their letter for fifth time already. They were sitting in her solar, it was late evening.

"He will. I've read of him when I was a boy, not only did he renounced the crown in favor of his brother, he went to the Wall by his own will for he did not want to be used against Aegon's rule." Jon told her.

"I envy you for it, you know." 

"For what?" he asked.

"That you were given proper education. They treated you as bastard of Ned Stark, but he made sure you were taught same as his children were.   
My brother and I were moving too oft for me to have tutors and teachers."

"It is not your fault, Dany. And you know quite enough of Westeros, given that you've never seen it." 

"I want to know more. Not of the past, but how is it now. I want to know who will stand with us and who will oppose us, once we land with our army and our dragons." 

Jon got up and went towards the bookshelf. "What are you doing?" she asked with chuckle.

"I know I've seen it among these old books." he replied.

"Those were my wedding gift." Dany told him with seriousness. "Whose gift?" Jon wondered as he was taking and returning books on the shelf.

"Ser Jorah's..." she answered with sigh.

"It was a good gift, he wanted you to know more of Seven Kingdoms. Mormont is not an evil man. A foolish man, yes. But he is not vile." 

"You speak in his favor... you?" Dany was surprised.   
"I speak how things are. I don't mind him being in Astapor, training their city guard. And not being here near you... I've found it."

He returned to the table with large piece of parchment in his hands. As he unfolded it, Dany saw the map of Westeros. She remembered looking at it while she was travelling with Drogo's khalassar.

"Now... the largest of the Seven Kingdoms is the North, of course." Jon said. " _Aye...of course_..." she said grinning at him. His eyes narrowed before he kissed her and then continued talking:

"North is now in hands of traitors, but I know that people and that land. They only suffer Boltons as wardens of the North. When they learn of Arya, daughter of Ned Stark, being alive and free, the North will rally to our side. They want vengeance and we shall give them one." 

"Your other sister seems to be vanished. One that was married to one of our _honored guests_." she added. 

"Yes. Lannisters have married Sansa to Tyrion. A sham marriage, that he has sworn to me when I spoke with him of her. He's never bedded her. And that Varys claims the same. I choose to trust them. Till she is found." 

"And if dwarf has lied to you?" Dany asked.

"Then I will kill him for defiling her, Sansa was barely a woman grown when they've forced her into that marriage." 

"As you should..." she concluded before pointing her finger south and east from the North: "Vale. They've kept away from this War of the Five Kings as ruin of our kingdom is called." 

"Aye, they have. And Arya has learned that Lysa Arryn is dead which means her son has inherited that land, he is only a little boy and Arya's heard tales of him being a weakling."

"Vale bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror when Visenya landed with her dragon on the Eyrie and took boy lord Arryn for a flight on Vhagar. Mayhaps I could to the same..." 

Jon shrugged: "Mayhaps... the Riverlands is ruined by the war and Frey betrayal. All those lords loyal to House Tully will support us for I plan to rain fire and blood on House Frey." 

"Raze the Twins to the ground, Jon. I do not care. There'll be no room for Boltons or Freys in the Realm we shall be making. Or Lannisters..." she pointed at Casterly Rock.

"Westerlands will defy us, till the bitter end, I'd say. And I say let them. It will be their ruin." 

"And Reach? Tyrells are allied with Lannisters by marriage. Twice already."

He nodded: "Boy king Tommen married... Margaery Tyrell. She's twice widow now. Two kings she wed an both were killed.

"Two usurpers, Jon. Not kings. That throne is ours." she said with coldest voice.

"And we'll have to speak with our _honored guests_ as you call them, of how strong is resolve of Tyrells and the Reach to die for the lions." 

"Stormlands..." Dany's hand trailed along the map "...sworn to Baratheons. We'll find no friends there." 

"I wouldn't be so certain. We could find some lords willing to join us there. Only one Baratheon remains and that is Stannis. Last word of him is that he's fled with what is left of his army from Dragonstone to the Wall." 

"Why? There are no Lannisters there for him to fight?" she wondered.

"He might need to recover his strength after that sound defeat at Blackwater Bay. What better place than as far away from Lannister army as possible."

"And Crownlands?" she asked next.   
"Loyal to Tommen for now. Though when they see dragons flying overhead, they'll hoist black and red banners again." Jon told her.

"Sunspear...Water Gardens... Did you know that Water Gardens were built for my namesake, Daenerys Targaryen who was married to Dornish prince..." she placed her finger on the southernmost part of Westeros.

"If I had known that, I've forgotten it. What I know of that land is from _The Conquest of Dorne_. I doubt they've changed much in century and a half.   
I don't expect that I'll gain us many friends there." 

Dany frowned: "Why would Dornish lords mislike you? They do not know you. Same as they do not know me." 

"No, they do not. But I'll be living reminder of my father casting aside Princess Elia Martell in favor of Lady Lyanna Stark. You'll have to bring Dornish to our side. They crave for vengeance on the Lannisters as well." 

"North, Vale, Riverlands, Crownlands, Dorne..." she named parts of Westeros "...we must seek our allies there. Land of stag and lion will defy us, that is certain. The Reach was loyal to our family once, but Lannister defeat means Tyrells will no longer have one of their own as queen."

"As I've said, we should speak with Imp and the Spider. With each of them alone. They've been enjoying our hospitality for twenty days now. Guards tell me eunuch is being restless while Imp is drinking for most of the time." 

"What is Realm?" Jon asked Varys as they were sitting in the council chamber with only two guards present at the door. Once Master of Whisperers was given attire of court scribes, he had not complained of it, claiming that he was only a servant. Jon was dressed in black breeches and shirt over which he wore crimson sleeveless overcoat.

"I'm not sure I understand..." 

"I'm quite sure you do. You claim that you're offering us the Golden Company for the sake of the Realm. What is Realm?" Jon repeated the question.

"The people. Realm is the people. From Last Hearth to Planky Town, people that suffers under tyrants and prospers under just rule. That is the Realm I serve." 

Jon looked at him: "You've been Master of Whisperers for the Mad King, my grandfather who killed my other grandfather. Then for the king who killed the man who sired me. Then for the king who killed the man who raised me. All proven failed kings, each in his own way, each making people to suffer. People you claim to serve. A poor service that has been, lord Varys."

"I've done what I could to lessen the damage of Aerys the Second, of Robert and of Joffrey." 

"Have you? I've heard otherwise. I've heard it was your whispering that made Mad King to come to the Tourney at Harrenhal. He believed how my father was conspiring to depose him, how that whole tourney was only an excuse to gather great lords and rally them against Aerys."

"False claims, my prince. My words never had that much weight with the Mad King. I advised him not to open city gates to Lannister army at the end of the rebellion. He did not listen." Varys countered.

"True or false, those claims were told to me by men whose honor and loyalty I do not question. As for you, I do not know yet where your loyalty truly lies. Perhaps with the people, the Realm as you call it, perhaps you only follow your own interest. Time will tell. For now, I want to know what do you expect in return for your offer?" 

"My offer? The Golden Company? I ask nothing in return save that you use them to bring the proper rule for Seven Kingdoms." 

"This captain-general Harry Strickland and his twenty thousand men expect from me and Queen Daenerys to take them home. I've been a sellsword myself for more than two years. Home in their minds means land to own, hodfasts and titles. What do you hope for?" 

"Thus far I am pleased that my head is still attached to the rest of me and that I haven't been fed to the dragons." 

Jon smirked: "It suits you ill to act as man of little ambition, Varys the Spider." 

Varys looked at Jon and small smile appeared on his face: "You were raised by Ned Stark, but you have a different mind. Northerners are oft too stiff and predictable for politics. Not you, I must say. Was it Beron Stark who taught you this? I remember the Golden Wolf when he was young as you are now..." 

Jon shrugged: "I am not my father... I am not Ned Stark, nor am I Rhaegar Targaryen. And I am not my cousin either."

"It came as a surprise to me, I must admit, learning that Crown Prince has sired a son with lady Lyanna and that her brother, lord Eddard Stark has been hiding that son for years as his own bastard. Though it makes sense. Lord Stark was not kind of a lord who would father a child with a woman that was not his wife. And, being here, I see both wolf and dragon in you, Prince Aegon. You've delivered stern Stark justice with Targaryen ruthlessness upon your enemies. Banishing whole households naked through the city gates and taking all their possessions. That is not something Ned Stark would have done. But, his brother Brandon would. Same as Cregan Stark would, same as Theon Stark would. Needless to mention what your father's forebearers were doing with their enemies." 

"You sound as you approve my... _ruthlessness_." Jon asked him.

"If it serves the greater good and not whims and sick desires of those wielding power, I welcome ruthlessness, yes." 

"Then for the cause of greater good, this is what I expect of you, lord Varys. You will send a message to Harry Strickland, inviting him to Meereen.   
I want to meet him same as Queen does." 

"It will be done as you ask, Prince Aegon. I know you are wary of me, you'd be fool not to, but I assure you that I will dedicate myself to Targaryen restoration. In its wholeness. Seven Kingdoms needs it, it's Realm's only chance." 

"Realm is the people, as you have said. How will the people look at the daughter and grandson of the Mad King retaking the Iron Throne?   
You expect them to be jubilant of it?" 

"My prince, you and Queen have the blood of Aerys the Second, but you also have the blood of Jaehaerys the Wise and his Good Queen.   
Should people of Westeros, lords and common folk alike, see that in you, you will triumph." 

"Triumph? Even if Golden Company sides with us, our army will not count more than thirty thousand. Lannisters and their Tyrell allies have three folds more." Jon reminded him.

"That alliance is not chiseled in stone, but stands on legs of straw. I assure you of not much love being lost between Highgarden and the Red Keep. It's an uneasy pact." Varys explained.

"It was power that brought lion and the rose together. Lion's desire to keep the power and rose's to gain it. Power will keep them bound, no matter their mislike." he countered.

"You have dragons, three of them. Same as your namesake, the Conqueror had. No army can hope for victory against them." 

"They're not yet fully grown to be used against armies. And Queen and I have unfinished work here. When Slaver's Bay is secured, only then we shall leave for Westeros. As dragons who have broken the harpies, not as dragons fleeing from them." 

"You have good grasp of the game, albeit your age." Varys praised the young prince. 

Dark-haired heir of house of the dragon leaned in his chair: "And you have way with words. But, it is not your words by which Queen and I shall judge you, but by your deeds. And, though your stay in Meereen is a short one, you've seen how traitors fare with both of us." 

"I see that word of you drinking too much was not exaggeration." Daenerys said looking at Tyrion Lannister. She was glad to be back in her loose white gown, armor did not agree with her but it was necessary. Notion of a poisoned arrow passing so near her unborn child troubled her and she gave a great effort to hide it. _I must be strong for the life I carry in my belly, for Jon and for myself. Future of House Targaryen sleeps under my heart. My little Aemon. Or my Lyaenys. Or, oh how I wish it to be so, both of them._

"Would you like me to pour you a cup?" he asked and brought her back from her pondering. They were sitting on the terrace of his chambers, on twenty-ninth level of Great Pyramid, beneath the canvas shade. Grey Worm stood nearby, his gaze glued at Tyrion, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"I do not partake. But, don't let that to prevent you for enjoying it." 

"Arbor Gold. An old vintage, mayhaps from times when your grandsire was on the Iron Throne." Tyrion smiled slowly sipping the wine.

"Selling men as cattle provided lords of Meereen with enough gold and silver to buy most expensive goods, including priciest wine from Westeros." 

"A taste of home... one that is not sour. When all else is..."

"What do you want exactly? Why did you come here?" she asked him. 

"I want vengeance." he said. 

"You have killed your father, as I've understood he sentenced you to die for a crime you did not commit. I dare say you had your vengeance." 

Tyrion sighed: "One day I'll tell you all about why I killed my father. And if that ever comes to be, I'll need more wine... but, I did not have my vengeance, not wholly, I did not. My sister still lives. She was plotting to have me killed same as my father did."

"Kinslaying is a vile crime, my lord." Dany warned him. "And yet someone forgot to tell that to lord Tywin and Queen Cersei." he grinned. 

"You want the Usurper's widow dead. And you hope that death will be delivered by the spears of my army or by the flame of my dragons." 

"I'd settle for me bashing her skull..." "Why do you hate her so?" she asked. 

"Cersei Lannister is a monster. World will be better off without her." 

"And for that you have journeyed all the way to Meereen to place yourself in my service hoping that I will serve as mean of your vengeance.   
I can't argue with reasoning behind that. What I ask is - what you have to offer to me?" 

"Counsel on how to defeat your enemies. And my sister is your main enemy in Westeros. Not her son, the boy king, he is not only young but weak as well, not rest of my family. My uncle Kevan was fashioned to follow not to lead and my brother..." 

"The one who killed my father?" "That's the one. Save Varys, he is the only man in this world I trust..." Imp confirmed.

"Perhaps I will have you killed after all." her eyes narrowed at him.

"Your queenly prerogative..." he replied unbothered while he was pouring himself more wine "...I had given up on life until Varys convinced me you might be worth living for. Should you chop off my head... well my final day were interesting." 

"Given up on life? What of desire to deliver vengeance on your sister..." Dany said not taking her eyes off him. 

"As you've said, Your Grace, I do see you as a mean of my vengeance to Cersei, to her and to many others... many others." 

"Many others? What many others?" she asked.

"The ingrate lot that is people of King's Landing. I've saved them from Stannis and later they cheered when I was trialed. Nothing could please me more than to see them burn." Tyrion hissed.

"When I saw you first you spoke of better world. Is your notion of better world one with people burning in scores or hundreds or thousands?" 

"Your Grace, when Aegon the Conqueror made Seven Kingdoms he did it on the burned castles and battlefields. Something new cannot come without ruin of that what was before. You've done it here in Meereen already." 

She frowned: "I haven't burn anyone. Not me, not my dragons."   
_That is not true, Drogon did burn that poor girl Hazzea,_ came to her mind right away, _but this Imp does not need to know it._

"No, but you have killed or banished hundreds of noblemen, those that have resisted you. You and Dragon Prince as they call him... Aegon Targaryen, Jon Snow..." he shook his head "...if there is afterlife, Ned Stark has a lot of explaining to do to his friend Robert..." She gave him a look saying that remark does not amuse her and he continued: "removing disloyal people, highborn and lowborn alike, awaits you once you land in Westeros. You'll have to deliver thousands of deaths so hundreds of thousands could live." 

"And once it is done, what do you want then?" Daenerys asked him.

"I'm not sure I want anything..."

"Lord Tyrion Lannister, everyone wants something. So, be that courteous to tell me what do you want once your sister is gone, her boy-king son is gone and your house is defeated?" she said, irked with his vague responses.

"I want Casterly Rock. I'll give it to you. I'll tell you how to take it with almost no loss of lives of your men, but once dragon banner is hoisted over castle of my ancestors, I want you to name me Warden of the West."

"That is a high price you ask for betraying you own kin." 

"They have betrayed me first. I am merely returning the favor. And of course, I offer you my counsel as I've already said.   
Counsel of a man who knows how the game of thrones is played in King's Landing." 

"I trust you have seen my counselors that day when you were brought before me." 

"I did. Ser Barristan is a knight, not very savvy in matters of politics, your interpreter is young girl not of Westeros, commander of the Unsullied is a soldier. That leaves lord Beron Stark. One true adviser is not enough." 

"I have done well so far with those counselors you have just belittled. I trust them. That is more than I can say for you or Varys the Spider.   
My trust is not easily earned, Tyrion of House Lannister. Bear that in mind." 

"I shall, Your Grace." Tyrion said.

"Good. For now, you may begin by writing a detailed report on who are the important men on the court of Usurper boy-king Tommen.   
All the important men. And women. I want it delivered two days from now. Do not mention of this to your travelling companion." 

Lannister nodded: "Varys does not need to know." "No, he does not." she agreed dryly

 _Spider will be tasked to do the same_ , she thought, _and asked not to tell you.  
If two reports were to differ greatly, one of you will prove to be a liar and woe to him then. _


	28. ARYA

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**ARYA**

_"...bad fighting, good dying..."_

Essos was excessive with its monuments. She concluded that during her journey to Slaver's Bay on _Titan's Daughter._ She confirmed that looking at the gates of Daznak's Pit. Two warriors, made in bronze, towered over the entrance as an arch of sword, axe and bodies, all caught in the fight to the death. Sculptor who made these two, many years ago, truly did a good work of capturing what took place in the pit _for eternity._.. _though no statue lasts forever so that saying is stupid_ , Arya thought. 

Fighting pits. "Smaller ones are pockmarks and larger are weeping sores..." Daenerys Stormborn told her only a day ago. Dragon queen hated those places. Still, she decided to reopen the largest pits to honor the tradition which was shared by highborn and smallfolk of this city. 

_Highborn and smallfolk_... Arya knew those names do not tell the truth... _masters and slaves, that is how things are here... were... and still are in some minds._

Daznak's Pit was the largest in Meereen. It appeared as immense bowl made of bricks, ringed with benches, each ring of benches being of different color. Black, purple, blues, green, white, yellow, orange, red. Ring after ring of benches. That red and orange was meant of once masters and they were already there, though one could tell how banishment for aiding Sons of the Harpy took its toll on noble families, many of those representing their houses, wearing tokars of various coatings, were either boys or women. Some houses were absent entirely. 

"Locusts!" peddlers shouted near her, carrying bowls of honeyed insects and dog sausages while others were offering figs, dates and melons. 

"Piss off." she replied, irked with his shouts ringing in her ears. _Puppies on a stick...not even born..._ queer food, queer folk, queer land. Arya liked Meereen to a measure, but this was not home. Not hers, not Jon's, not Beron's... this was not home of Daenerys Stormborn either and she hoped with all her heart that her nephew or niece will not be born here, but in Westeros as child of Targaryen and Stark blood should be born. 

She saw a royal dais, shielded with canvas, that was prepared for Queen of Meereen. She was already there with her Naathi adviser, Missandei sitting at her left. Daenerys was again wearing her cuirass armor, all her garments were crimson and black, same as Jon's who was seated at her right and Beron was leaned in the chair next to him. Arya refused a chair as he preferred to stand behind her kinsmen. Ser Barristan was towering over young queen in his full attire, while Grey Worm was the most restless of them all, gazing left and right. In the second row were Molono Yos Dob and Skahaz mo Kandaq, nobleman who replaced Hizdahr on the council. This man was not very pleasing to the eye, but was among that smaller number of once masters who took the side of young Targaryen queen from the day she conquered Meereen. Along the dais, ten of the Unsullied stood watch, as living statues. There was chilled wine and water and lime juice, fruit and food prepared for Queen and others to enjoy. 

Arya let her gaze go slow, from one end of the pit to the o ther. Robes of many colors, Ghiscari priestesses called the Graces, then envoys from the yellow city, Yunkish council sent delegation to honor their allegiance with Daenerys. On the upper rows of benches were lesser nobles and Meereenese that were never slaves, while on those farthest from the sand were once slaves and other commoners. Pit was well guarded by the Unsullied, sellswords and men of city guard that was still in its birth. 

Place was silent until announcer came out, a nobleman of lesser house by his attire. He walked to the center of the pit and shouted:

"Free citizens of Meereen! By the blessings of the Graces and her majesty the Queen, welcome to the Great Games!"

Crowd, now numbering in thousands clapped their hands and cheered, all of them alike, former owners and formerly owned. This bloody tradition was thing that linked them together, not blood, not faith, but this. Arya shook her head, which did not go unnoticed by Beron:  
"Little cousin, I see this disagrees with you. Not exactly a Hand's Tourney..." 

"No. But I reckon Joffrey would have liked this. Same as those Bolton and Frey worms." she hissed frowning at him. 

"We won't stay long, you and I. This is not my sort of entertainment either." Beron told her and she nodded.

Crowd roared even more as announcer's hands went in the air: "My queen, our first contest. Who will triumph: the strong or the quick?"

Two fighters came on the sand, one tall and large, almost large as that Clegane beast Ser Gregor and the other barely reaching his shoulder, smaller and leaner man.

They both greeted Daenerys, speaking in highly accentuated Valyrian: "Aōhor jaqiarzir ivīlībin imorghūlīn, jaqiarzus Dārȳs."  
( _I fight and die for your glory, o glorious Queen_.)

The crowd went silent again as fighters stood before the dais. Arya looked at Daenerys, she was hesitant, looking at the two men.

"Your Radiance, they’re waiting for you. Fight will not begin till you clap your hands." Skahaz mo Kandaq said.

Young Queen looked at him, then turned back to the fighters and with unconcealed look of disgust on her face, she claps her hands. The crowd roared with approval and the fight has begun. After some parries, the smaller man sliced the neck of his large opponent. 

"I shall put my money on the smaller man, no question, that’s where you should put your money as well." Mollono said to Skahaz.

"He does not stand a chance before that monster." nobleman countered.

"No one is putting the money anywhere. Not you, not me." Daenerys warned them.

"Your Radiance, kings and queens never bet on the games. It is beneath monarchs to do so." Skahaz said to her. 

"You've been living in Meereen whole your life and you're making such novice mistake, falling for the size of a man when you should be judging the fighter by his agility." Mollono mocked Skahaz.

"Indeed, I have spent much of my life in Meereen, and in my experience larger men do triumph over smaller man, far more often than not."

"Yes, but sometimes they do not. And this will be one of those..." 

Once slave is cut in the middle of sentence as larger man disarms the smaller one and he remains standing at his mercy. Crowd shouted more than ever, asking for blood. Arya knew all the fighters were given strict warning to ask from their defeated opponents to yield upon defeating them, same as they were warned to yield if defeated. 

"Obūljarion!" shouted the larger man and it echoed across the pit, people waiting in silence to see the outcome of this fight. 

"Dōrī!" the smaller one replied defiantly which made crowd to erupt with cheers. Then the large man decapitated him.

Daenerys looked at Jon who was shaking his head and asked: "Why did he say - never?"  
He took her hand: "These men are not Westerosi knights jousting. When a knight is defeated at joust or in melee, he remains a knight, only his pride suffers. But, for a pit fighter to yield is same as he has died." 

"It cannot be the same. A fighter that stays alive can fight another day..." she said.

"Prince is right, my queen..." Mollono told her "...a pit fighter vanquished in the Great Games cannot return to the pits. Those who yield today are those who will never enter any pit ever again." 

"So, this man had no life except fighting pit?" Beron asked him. 

"Yes, that is so. He was a pit fighter and he died as one... You don’t approve?"

Beron shrugged: "I don't approve many things in the Known World yet they exist anyway." It made Arya to grin. 

Skahaz mo Kandaq said: "Lord Stark disapproves this tradition of ours. But, for many generations for many slaves to fight in the pits was the only way to achieve greatness." 

"That is greatness?" Daenerys gestured towards pit where both head and headless body were taken from the sand, leaving a bloody trail behind, while larger man was walking out victoriously.

"That is what Meereen is. Listen to the people, Your Radiance..." Mollono said to her "...to all of your people. They all love this." 

Arya could tell that Queen was displeased, then she heard her brother telling: "One can only hope that people of Meereen will in time find something else that will bring them together, not only amusement in bloodshed." 

_When did he began to utter words of wisdom_ , Arya smiled but answer mayhaps was in approving gaze silver-haired Targaryen gave to dark-haired one.

"What is next?" Daenerys asked. "Something that could appear as Westerosi tourneys..." Skahaz answered "...a mock battle." 

Pit was roaring again as six men on foot came out, armed with shields and longswords, dressed in chainmail hauberks. Those on horses were armed with Dothraki arakhs with no armor, though none was truly a Dothraki same as those on foot were not knights. It truly was a mockery and it turned out to be so. Two footmen swiftly ended under the hooves, third was wounded by curved blade, but then remaining four cut the horses beneath the bare chested riders and all six were unmounted. Three yielded, three were slain. 

"Five out of twelve died. It would've been worse before, Your Grace." Ser Barristan leaned forward and told his queen which was displeased with more blood coating the sand beneath the dais. 

"I trust I have seen enough fighting for one day. I shall make my leave now." Daenerys said and got up from her seat. Jon got up right away as well, while Selmy and Grey Worm were already at her side. 

Seeing how she is about to leave, the announcer shouted from the middle of the pit: "Meereen! Let Queen Daenerys hear your love!"

Thousands of throats shouted out their thanks: ""Mhysa, Mhysa, Mhysa!" It lasted long, so long that it seemed to Arya how this whole building trembles. 

"You see, Your Radiance, how your city loves you!" both Skahaz and Mollono exclaimed. Daenerys turned towards the crowd and waved with her hand which brought even more cheering. As shouts were slowly ceasing, she nodded to Ser Barristan and Grey Worm that she was ready to leave the pit. Beron got up as well, not willing to remain after Targaryen couple leaves.

"Live Vesterozia!" came a single shout, from behind the dais. _Westerosi whore._ There in the row with white benches a man stood up, a free Meereenese, wearing the best attire he owned and a mask shaped as harpy's face. 

Then another one, then three, then five... Arya watched as on all sides of the pit, in all rows save the highest ones, masked men are rising up, causing all those around them to scream in sheer terror. Blades flashed soon, cutting throats of men that were sitting next to the Sons of the Harpy or stabbing women who screamed helplessly. Soon, chaos ensued on all sides of the pit.

*Protect your Queen!" Ser Barristan shouted at the Unsullied as he saw half a dozen of masked men rushing down the colored bench rings, aimed for the dais. His longsword met first the knife holding hand, then the gut of the fastest one, Grey Worm impaled the second one in his spear, while his men were cutting their way through this barrier of enemy's flesh. Jon was shielding Daenerys, his sword and hand axe drawn, his face was now a face of awakened beast, face Arya has never seen before. 

"To the gate" he yelled as he broke the mask and the face behind it with his axe. "Come! Stay at my side!" Beron yelled at her, grabbing the shield of one fallen Unsullied. He struck down one foe with it, breaking his skull, while other went for Arya, but she slashed his leg with her shortsword, bringing him on his knees and then Needle found its way to his heart.

"Dumb cunt!" she cursed which made Beron to chide her: "Mind your tongue, girl! You refuse to be a lady, but you're not of gutter either!" 

Arya gave a quick look around. People were trying to run from the highest row of benches to the lowest one, while scores of them were running across the sand, towards nearest gate. Masked men were everywhere and it seemed to her that hundreds have descended upon Daznak's Pit. The Unsullied, Beron's men and other sellswords were battling them on all sides, but there was not enough of them. Harpy's Sons were emerging from the crowd, at one point it seemed to Arya that only them have come to the Great Games. 

"Cunts!" she said to herself as royal entourage was advancing towards the nearest gate. Ser Barristan was unstoppable, man old enough to be grandfather of those coming before him, he carved through them with ease leading the wall of shields and spears that was pushing towards into the narrow passage where one of the side entrances into the pit was. Soon, all were inside, Jon, Daenerys, Beron, Missandei, Grey Worm, Selmy, Mollono, Skahaz and over a dozen of the Unsullied, now forming a shield wall towards the sand where foes were massing as they saw where dragon queen went.

"It's locked! Seven hells, it's barred!" Jon cursed and then began to hit the wooden door with his hand axe. Arya could see the widened eyes of his beloved, that was fear entering the mind of Daenerys Targaryen. Her Naathi adviser was even more afraid. 

"Can you tear it down?" Beron asked. "I'll break the lock, but give me some time!" Jon replied.  
Beron nodded: "All right, everyone with sword in his hand, to me!"

He turned away from the door and rushed back to the Unsullied that were blocking the passage. Those boldest foes were already lying under their feet. 

"Jon! Jon!" Arya called her brother "Lift me up! Lift me!" "What??" he said as his axe slammed in the thick wood. 

"I can pass through that archway! I can!" she pointed up. All entrances into the Daznak's Pit had an arch, main gate same as lesser ones, and wooden doors were not arched, leaving about two feet of opening, for entry passages to have enough air. 

Jon looked up and then at her: "They will cut you down the moment you come on the other side of this door." 

"They will cut us all down if we don't get this door open! Lift me up, for fook sake!" she cursed causing Daenerys to frown, even at this moment. Jon hesitated, then said before kneeling down: "Climb on my shoulders, but if you see anyone standing on the other side, I'm puling you back in!" 

Arya jumped on him and he got up, leaning on the door so she could grab its upper end. She was now standing on his shoulders and was able to see over the gate. "There is no one out there!" Arya said aloud and contently and lifted her left leg to place it on the door as well, for a heartbeat she was lying on its edge, her belly down, before letting herself to slide down on the other side. Soon she was back at her feet, looking left and right, Needle in her hand, there was no one around, but screams and shouts from the far side of the street were coming to her, from the people that have managed to flee from the pit. 

She turned to the door next and saw an iron bar passed through the door rings. Arya pulled it out and was about to open the door wide when sounds came from behind. In a heartbeat she turned around and faced Son of the Harpy charging at her with a dagger, Arya threw herself aside and her foe missed her, but Needle found its way into the back of masked enemy's neck, she drove it in almost whole length, then pulled it out in a swift move. Her foe went on the knees first, then fell on the back. 

"Dumb cunt!" Arya yelled at the dead body, kicking the head with her boot which made the harpy mask to flew away. Beneath it was a face of a girl, not much older than she was. Arya paused for a while, breathing deeply. They anger came over her and she spat: "Dumb cunt indeed."  
Then she grabbed both of the ring pulls and opened the gate as wide as she could: "Quickly!" 

Ser Barristan was first to come out, holding sword and shield, then Jon, Daenerys and Missandei followed.  
"Are you all right?" Jon asked her upon seeing the dead girl.

"I am. We must run now, run to the Great Pyramid as fast as we can." she told him.

"Our men are coming here, that is certain. Screams from this place are echoing across half of the city." Jon replied. He was right, in the distance Arya could already see mounted men, most likely Company of the Wolf, galloping towards the pit.

Beron and Grey Worm came out last, with four of the surviving Unsullied, with their back to the gate as they were still blocking the assault of the enemy. "Close the gate!" he shouted as last of Queen's soldiers was out. Both sides of wooden gate were now shutting again, pushed by all save Daenerys and Missandei, while Arya was securing the door rings with the iron bar. Through the crack between the thick wooden planks she saw  
the passage filled with men under masks trying to pass through the gate, but now they were trapped inside.

"We must leave! Now! Follow me!" Jon shouted pointing with his sword at the approaching riders wearing grey and white colors "They'll give us horses!" 

"Come, Your Grace!" Ser Barristan said covering Daenerys with his shield and they were all rushing down the street to meet the mounted relief as soon as they could. Arya stood there with her bloodied thin blade, still looking at the gate, listening how Sons of the Harpy are slamming on the wooden door.

"What are you waiting for, girl! Run!" she heard Beron's voice and his hand grabbing her shoulder, forcing her away.  
"Don't push me!" she yelled at him, irked. Then a spear came, thrown over the door, through the archway.

"Beron! Beron!" Arya screamed. A broken spear was lodged in her kinsman's belly, blood already coating his clothes crimson. He looked at it and grinned, before falling on his and and right knee. He spat blood and shook his head:

"Gods damn it... a spear. A fucking sharpened stick... I never..." Arya rushed at his side and knelt beside him: "Beron... no, no! Jon! Jon!"  
Beron let out a laugh: "I'm skewered, not deaf, girl..."

Jon came running and fell on his knees as well: "Seven hells, Beron! We must get you on a horse... we must get a healer... Arya..." 

"Don't be a fool, boy..." Beron coughed "...one does not recover from such wound... oh, fuck it... killed by a eunuch's broken spear thrown by the greatest cunts of Essos... What a shit way to go..."

Tears went down Arya's face: "Don't talk, Beron... you're making it worse." 

"When will I talk if not now... girl?" "I'm not your girl..." she told him, her hand around his shoulders, grey eyes filled with tears.

"No, you're not....you're Arya Stark of Winterfell..." he said looking at her, blood trickled from his mouth "...listen to me... both of you... you have to... reclaim what is yours... a wolf banner on Winterfell... a dragon banner on... Red Keep..." 

"Beron, you'll do that with us. You must be with us..." Jon said, holding him together with Arya.

Stark of Pentos slowly shook his head: "No, boy... soon... I'll see Ned and Brandon... and Rickard... I'll see your father and your mother...  
I'll tell Lyanna what man she has born... Do not weep, you fools, all our kinfolk awaits me... Girl, look at me..." 

"Damn you, Beron... do not die on me, not you as well..." she sobbed. "Say the words, Arya Stark..."

"The North remembers..." her voice trembled with pain. "...and so will you..." he said, grabbing her hand, before taking his last breath. 

On the street of Meereen, Beron died in the arms of his cousins, last Stark of his generation. He lived to see the new hope for direwolves and for dragons.

Arya cried kneeling in the dirt. She did not get to cry when she saw her father beheaded, nor when she saw the Red Wedding, she cried now. For all of them. For father, for mother, for Robb, for Bran, for Rickon. For Beron.

She let out a mournful scream and then looked at Jon with a savage glint. Glint that spoke more than thousand words.

They placed the body of Beron Stark in the throne room, dressed in white overcoat with embroidered grey direwolf head on his chest, his sword and his dragonbone bow each in one hand. 

"Lord Beron of House Stark of Pentos..." Daenerys said, her face marked with great sadness "...he came to my service as leader of sellswords but he became my adviser, my friend and my family." 

She looked at Ser Barristan: "You tell me that Sons of the Harpy are surrounded in Daznak's Pit?"

Old knight, lifting his gaze from Beron, nodded: "Yes, Your Grace. The Unsullied, Company of the Wolf and all our other men have blocked them inside. Instead of retreating in time, those criminals kept on murdering all those that could not flee from the pit. Men, women, even servant boys and girls. Prince Aegon has taken command of all our troops. Every Son of the Harpy that tried to run from the pit has been killed on the spot." 

Arya stood over her kinsman's dead body, silent as a statue, her eyes were still blur, yet upon hearing these words she said through her teeth: "They should all be killed. All of them. No quarter." 

Silver-haired queen looked at her: "And they shall receive none. My dragons are away, but still I can rain fire and blood on my enemies.  
Ser Barristan, these are my orders: place our catapults on all sides of Daznak's Pit, see that pit is targeted with barrels filled with oil, as much barrels as you can find. I want that place to be soaked with it. And then, shoot the flaming projectiles and fire arrows."

"Your Grace..." Ser Barristan bowed his head acknowledging.

"I want that pit burned with all the rats trapped inside it. Is that clear, Ser?" 

"It is, my queen. This time tomorrow, Daznak's Pit will be nothing but charred stone." 


	29. ZALDRĪZO KIPATYS

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**ZALDRĪZO KIPATYS**

_"...we are not ordinary people..."_

Meereen was still smelling of burned flesh. 

A fortnight has passed since fiery rain was unleashed on Daznak's Pit, burning all in its path. Its stone walls were charred, all else burned away.  
All else and everyone else. No one could tell how many Harpy's Sons died in the pit that day. No one bothered to count the burned corpses, some partially burned, some wholly, some remaining only bones. There were scores of them, yet no all were masked rebels, some of the bodies were their victims, but families of those came to seek for them. Families of Sons of the Harpy did not come to seek their sons, brothers, husbands or fathers. Missing family member was easier to suffer than certain banishment which having Son of the Harpy in your kin brings. 

Some among queen's men at arms claimed between five and seven hundred enemies were burned or slain that day. It could be so knowing that thousands of people gathered on the opening of Great Games, few hundred among them being Harpy's Sons which came armed and ready to bring slaughter and chaos. Two weeks have passed and Meereen was at peace, for the first time in many moons. Some on the royal court dared to hope how Sons of the Harpy were broken for good. It was not a fool's hope. All the houses that provided men, shelter and funds for this shadow army were punished and this army could not survive without it. Losing so many men at once has depleted their ranks many folds.  
Still, a tight grip on the city was not loosened. All sorts of royal soldiers were patrolling the streets day and night. 

"Seek any sign of mourning in parts of the city that are known to be harpy's lairs. Any sign. Should you find those that weep and lament for those that no more sit at their table... gather them and drive them out of the city. Show no lenience for they deserve none. Those families were hiding murderers that have killed men, women, even children... that have killed the Unsullied, the city guard, the Company of the Wolf... Mercy is not for them for they spit on mercy." 

Words of Prince Aegon Targaryen, captain of the sellsword company his kinsman founded echoed in the minds of all queen's men. He commanded that company now and all the other sellswords and freedmen of city guard. Only the Unsullied answered directly to the Queen, but his commands obliged them as well. Dragon Prince waged war on the Harpy's Sons with fear and retaliation, it made him hated and dreaded among most of once masters but also admired and loved among once slaves. His campaign was slowly but surely giving fruit. Whole quarters were cleansed from both masked rebels and those providing them aid. Shadow army was pushed into deeper shadow. Many of their leaders were dead or banished. 

"A body without head wanders and kicks aimlessly. It could be that what they have done in the Daznak's Pit was their last charge.  
Their last try to kill Her Grace and her closest advisers." Ser Barristan Selmy spoke at the council. 

"Perhaps it is so, Ser..." Jon agreed "...time will soon tell." 

Beron's death left him bitter, thirsting for vengeance. Most of his cousin's men felt the same. When Dono Pahrah asked him what to do with dozens of burned corpses, two days after pit was burned down, Jon said:  
"Put them on carts and take them miles outside the city, let crows and vultures feast on them. But not if you can tell that corpse is of woman or child, they were all killed by Harpy's Sons."

"Captain, there are some corpses of men that we can't tell who they are, killers or killed." Dono noted.

"Then we shall assume they're all killers." Jon replied dryly. 

It took two columns of carts, more than forty of them, to carry dead bodies from burned ruin of Daznak's Pit to a plain, twenty miles outside of the city, near the Skahazadhan river. Jon knew that in matter of week or two, only bones will remain. Many bones. A reminder to those coming to Meereen from the east what befalls the enemies of Breaker of Chains. Daenerys agreed with his actions. She gave many chances for their foes to end the shadow war they were leading against her and those she freed from slavery. There was no room for mercy, not for those who mocked it. 

"I don't want that filth within the walls of Meereen, dead or alive. Take them away, what crows do not eat, maggots will." were her words to Jon. 

It wasn't crows that feasted the most on the dead Harpy's Sons. True, birds flocked in hundreds to the field that was sowed with corpses only to flee in fear when sky darkened. Largest living things in the sky descended on the field. Dragons. All three flew from the sea inland, over southern edge of the city. Guards on the Great Pyramid saw them and reported of that to Grey Worm who rushed to tell it to his Queen.  
She rushed to Jon who was issuing orders to his men in the throne room.

"Jon... Drogon, Viserion, Rhaegal... they've returned! We must go see them!" she spoke in excitement when his officers have left. 

"What are you saying?" 

"Guards saw them flying over the city, going east, but they saw them coming low. They have landed, I'm certain." 

"Landed where? There are tens of miles of land outside Meereen. We could be searching for them for hours." Jon said.

"I know where they are. They feast on our enemies." she answered with certainty.

"I thought dragons hunt their food, not feeding on carcasses and corpses..." 

"Piles of burned flesh, Jon. A proper food for them." 

"Those are dead men, Dany. They'll be feeding on flesh of men." 

"Harpy is not a woman so her sons cannot be men. Come, we go to the stables for we must ride fast." 

"You're with child. It is not wise..." he warned her.

"I was with child once before and I've rode for scores of miles with khalasar. Do not stand there, come already." 

Daenerys was eager to ride out through the eastern gate, near the pyramid of Zhak, but Jon insisted in mustering escort as large as he could. In the end sixty riders went with them, though not moving fast as Queen wanted, which irked her but he was not willing to rush the horses with her being almost four moons pregnant now. Nearly four hours have passed till they reached the filed, much to Dany's discontent but Jon was determined and their escort were all his men. 

"Halt!" he yelled when they reached the edge of the field. Dragons, all three were there, keeping distance from one another and crawling across the grounds, biting legs and arms or large chunks of flesh from dead bodies. Drogon was larger than other two, but Jon could tell how Rhaegal and Viserion have grown since he saw them last. At times they would hiss or growl when one would approach the corpse other was feeding upon. Air was filled with stench of decomposing bodies. Daenerys did not mind, she has not seen her children for weeks, Drogon even longer. She was about to ride to them, but Jon grabbed her reins: 

"No. Wait. They haven't finished eating. And they eat dead men." 

"They will not harm me. They are my children." 

"And my child or children are in your belly. I am not taking any chances. A long time has passed since you've seen them last.  
Wait. Wait for them to come to us." 

She frowned: "You don't know first thing about dragons and you advise me how to act with them? Truly?" 

"I know that it is not wise to interrupt any beast which hunts its prey when that beast is eating." 

Her eyes narrowed at him: "All right, _Aegon_. Let it be your way. This time." She sighed next: "I wish I've grown up with you.  
The way you protect me... it angers me more than oft, but I like it. I want you to know that. I missed that when Viserys changed..." 

"I will never change. And soon enough I will have more family to protect." Her hand went to her belly:  
"I can't wait to see you weeping when our Aemon or our Lyaenys looks at you for the first time. And you will weep, Jon. I know you will." 

"Tears of joy. Aye, I will..." Jon turned around to see where their escort was, they were keeping distance as he ordered them to, not wanting for that many riders to close in the feeding dragons. Then he looked back at Dany:  
"We must inform the court and the city of you being with child. You can't hide it anymore, no matter how loose dresses you wear. And then we must wed..." 

She shook her head: "I am not going to marry you in Meereen or anywhere else in Essos. I will marry you on Dragonstone before Seven and in Winterfell before gods of your mother, though I don't have faith in either. Not here. Never here." 

"Then we should be leaving across the Narrow Sea soon." he said.  
"You were not born as bastard, you were never Jon Snow. Your children will not be born as bastards. I swear that on the love I have for you, Aegon Targaryen." 

Her words have left him speechless, he looked at her with glowing eyes as was about to say something when her gaze went away and smile marked her face: "Drogon... kesīr māzīs... come here..."

Next, she dismounted and slowly walked towards the red-black dragon that was coming nearer. Jon dismounted as well, she rushed towards Drogon and he had to rush after her. Long scaled neck stretched toward Daenerys as she came only few feet from Drogon. His red eyes, two smoldering pits, gave silver-haired woman a long stare. Dragon tilted his head a few times, making short growls. When his mouth opened, Jon could see bits of broken bones and charred flesh between his sharp, black teeth. 

"Drogon..." Daenerys said before reaching for his jaw with her hand. Many days have passed since she has scratched him so and she was uncertain how dragon will act, but he lowered his head and allowed her fingers to touch his thick, hot reptilian skin. Drogon hissed once and then began to purr. "Drogon..." she repeated gently, smiling at large beast whose wings were now almost thirty feet from tip to tip. Jon was relieved seeing that, he feared how this dragon, now roaming free for moons, would act. Viserion came crawling over the corpse covered field as well, hissing to make Daenerys aware of his presence and bit wary of his larger brother white dragon nuzzled her back, though it almost pushed Dany off her feet.

"Easy, easy..." she said "...I've missed you as well... how you have grown." Her hand was now placed on Viserion's large snout and purring came from him as well. 

"You see, Jon, there is nothing to worry about..." Dany told and then smiled again: "Rhaegal..." 

Green dragon was silent while approaching them and when his head was between Jon and Daenerys, he let out a growl. Bronze eyes gazed at Daenerys first and she was about to reach for him as well, but Rhaegal veered towards Jon, repeating the growl.

"This dragon is yours, Aegon Targaryen. And it seems he wants you to scratch his jaw." 

"He is not mine. He is yours, your child..." Daenerys smiled: "And he will forever be so. But dragon is not a slave, remember, he has chosen you. Not the other way around." 

The very next moment Jon was scratching Rhaegal and he purred, pushing his snout into Jon.  
"I've missed you too, boy... you seem twice as large than before." 

"He is. Dragons never stop growing when free. When they roam the skies..." she said, looking approvingly how Jon bonds with her green-scaled dragon child. 

Drogon growled suddenly and stretched out flat upon his belly. "Skoros yne jaelia?" she asked and dragon growled again, turning his neck right and pushing her closer to his folded wings. She stood there for a heartbeat, then climbed his back. Drogon twisted under her, his muscles rippling as he gathered his strength. Jon's eyes widened and he made two steps to her, but somehow, for some reason she could not explain, from her mouth came words: "Sōvēs." and then black wings cracked like thunder and suddenly the field of dried grass and rocks was falling away beneath her. "Dany! Dany! No!" Jon yelled from beneath, but his words were silenced by Viserion taking the flight as well.

Daenerys Stormborn was in the air, riding a dragon, grabbing his spinal crest, nothing else existed in that moment, nothing else mattered. Drogon was climbing high and field covered with her dead foes was now merely a patch of earth with little spots, spots that once were living men which bore arms against her. 

"Seven hells!" Jon cursed watching how Drogon moves higher and higher. His escort was looking at that scene as well, some have dismounted, others were still in the saddle, their horses neighing as presence of dragons did not agree with them. 

"Mount up! We go after the Queen!" Jon barked his command and was about to run to his horse when Rhaegal's head came before him and green dragon hissed. "I must go, he is taking Dany away."

Rhaegal growled and it seemed as dragon mocks him, then green beast was on his belly as well, bronze eyes staring at Jon.  
Dark-haired Targaryen returned the stare and then without a word he mounted the dragon named after his father.

"Now what?" Jon asked and Rhaegal hissed again. "I want you to go after Drogon. I want you to fly. Fly... Rhaīgal, sōvegon!"  
Green dragon roared, beating his wings once, twice, then followed shaking of the ground and gust of wind as Rhaegal and his rider went up into the sunny sky.

"Seven bloody hells..." Jon exclaimed, grabbing whatever he could on his mount's reptilian body "...I am not going to fall off. Do not turn over, boy, you hear..."

Then it flashed in his mind... he was flying... he was in the air on the back of a dragon... he was flying.  
At that moment, all else was gone from his mind... even Daenerys, his pregnant love vanished from his thoughts. There was only him and large winged beast beneath him. Beast that heeded his words uttered in language of his father's forebearers: "Geptot, paktot, bē..." ( _Left, right, up.._. ) Up, Jon felt need to go up, ever higher. His eyes went from Rhaegal's long neck to his men on the field who now seemed as ants almost.  
Then he gazed in the distance and saw Drogon who was couple of miles away now with Viserion flying close on his left, they were headed towards Meereen.

"There, there they are! Go, Rhaegal, gūrogon nyke va Drōgon! Take me near your brother!" 

Rhaegal roared and his wings began to move faster, it was as thunder though none of three dragons was fully grown yet. Green dragon was coming after black one from above, as Rhaegal caught up with Drogon, he descended from the right side with roar which made Daenerys to look back.

"Dany! Dany!" Jon shouted as loud as he could.

"Jon!" her eyes widened same as her smile "Do you see? Do you see how magnificent it is?" she yelled back. 

"What is?" 

"Targārio iksā! Zaldrīzo kipatys iksā!!" she was shouting her answer in High Valyrian.  
( _To be a Targaryen!! To be a dragon rider!!_ )

"Yes! Dragon rider!" he said and made Rhaegal to fly even closer to Drogon, their wings almost touching now. His bond with Ghost made him truly aware of his Northern, wolf blood. Sitting on the back of a dragon, hundreds of feet above the earth, made the blood his father gave him almost to boil in his veins. Jon felt it all. Same as Daenerys. 

A whole, indescribable freedom. A complete, indescribable power. All that came from a bond with a living thing that filled all others with awe and dread in the same time. They were near each other, Jon and her, but it was as he was half the world away in the same time.  
She could not think much of anything else but of Drogon and herself. Largest and wildest of her children was obeying her now. Dany wanted to go lower and left, Drogon went that way, he was over Skahazadhan now, river seemed to her as a brown snake slithering over the land. She let dragon to follow the river, Viserion shrieked at her left side, keeping both speed and height with his brother. Dany looked right and back to see where Jon and Rhaegal were, but there was no sign of them. Only then she looked up and saw Rhaegal trying to pass above Drogon.  
She smirked: "Oh no, Aegon Targaryen... you will not..."

Then she said aloud in High Valyrian not knowing if Drogon will understand her or not: "Ilagon! Hen qelbar toliot sōvēs!"  
( _Down! Fly over the river!_ ) He descended swiftly in a heartbeat, aiming for the lazy flowing river, diving fast so it appeared to her Drogon will slam into Skahazadhan as he were after fish, yet some five and ten feet above river he suddenly slowed down, straightened and was now gliding over the water, causing its surface to ripple. 

"Do not do that again!!!" voice came behind her and she turned her head back. Rhaegal was right after Drogon, he did the same swift dive towards the Skahazadhan and now was half his own length behind Daenerys' mount. 

Daenerys grinned at Jon: "You sound as toothless crone!" He frowned: "Crone that will make it to Great Pyramid before you!!" 

Rhaegal surged up next and was flying hard towards the city whose walls and pyramids were now in plain sight.  
Dany shook her head: "We'll see about that, _zokla vala._. Bē! Drogon, bē!" 

Dragon of red-black scales went after green-bronze one, while third, coated in cream-gold remained out of this race towards Meereen. 

"Race... I am on a dragon and I am racing with other one..." flashed in Jon's mind, he was lowered down on Rhaegal's back, same as he was galloping on a horse, large wings were moving fast and city was nearing with every heartbeat. 

"You're not going to win this one, my love..." was Dany's thought as Drogon was now neck to neck with his brother, coming from his left, shrieking loudly.

"I don't like losing, Jon!" Daenerys shouted at the man she loved the most.  
"Neither do I!" he answered. Two dragons have flown over eastern gate of Meereen, causing both guards on the walls and people on the street to seek cover. Large shadows passed over the ruin of Daznak's PIt, between pyramids of Naqqan and Pahl and soon were circling around the apex of the Great Pyramid. Terraces on all levels were filling with the Unsullied, Jon's men, court servants... Arya stood next to Ser Barristan as their training was interrupted with two dragons roaring above the royal pyramid. 

After one more circle, Drogon went down. He landed before the pyramid, causing all those gathered there to flee inside. Rhaegal soon followed and now both dragons were on the ground with their wings folded. Dany was first to dismount and she rushed to Jon in hastened pace.  
They were now standing before each other, both taken aback with their first dragon ride. 

"Are you all right? Tell me..." he managed to say.

"I have never been better... Jon, our babe. I felt him... or her... I felt the kicks... our babe kicked when I was on Drogon. Our babe will be a dragon rider as well." 

Jon nodded: "And here comes his or hers dragon." his hand pointed at third shadow coming down from the sky.  
"Yes, Jon... our child will ride Viserion." 

Then they have embraced and kissed. "Now we truly are Targaryens." she whispered to his ear "Now we truly can take what is ours." 

"Aye, we can. And we shall." he whispered back. 

Three dragons were landed on the ground level of the Great Pyramid, looking at their mother and her man for a while, before they took the flight again, their wings thundering as they flew away, passing over the Temple of Graces and were now slowly vanishing over the sea of Slaver's Bay. 

"Where are they going?" Jon wondered. "Wherever they want." she replied. 

"Your Grace! Prince Aegon!" Missandei came out from the pyramid and walked hastily towards them.

Dany smiled at her: "What is it?" Eyes of Naathi girl went to the sky, she was hoping to catch a glimpse of dragons. 

"Missandei... do you have something to tell me?" asked her queen.

"Yes, forgive me Your Grace... captain-general Harry Strickland of Golden Company has come to Meereen and seeks audience with you and Prince Aegon." 

"Thank you, Missandei..." she said, then looked at Jon, lifting an eyebrow:  
"Well, Aegon Targaryen, it appears that general of our army to be has come to see us." 

Jon sighed contently: "Westeros was never as near as it is today, Daenerys Targaryen." 


	30. VARYS

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**VARYS**

_"...It was for the realm. For the children..."_

"You would have me send Ser Jorah Mormont to Westeros?" young queen frowned at him. 

"Yes, Your Grace." he replied before taking a sip of chilled lime juice. Daenerys Stormborn did not offer him wine when he was summoned from his quarters to join her on the apex terrace.

"May I know why? Must I remind you that I have banished him from my side for spying on me. Spying for you." 

"You do not have to remind me of that, Your Grace. Indeed, he was my spy in your midst and truly he was the one who informed me of you being wed with khal Drogo and bearing his child..." 

"And that wine merchant was working for you... one that tried to sell me a barrel of poisoned wine. Lord Varys, do you deem that it works in your favor bringing that back to my mind?" 

"Your Grace, I have..." "Yes, you have undermined every attempt on my life. Or at least you want me to believe that. I am not so naive, my lord, albeit my young age. You have not undermined that wine merchant, it was Ser Jorah himself..."

Varys nodded: "Yes, it was him. By then, he has developed a strong bond of loyalty for you, stronger than even appeal of a royal pardon. And that bond remains to this day. He serves you in Astapor, forming city guard there... He could be used even better." 

Daenerys leaned in her chair and sipped lime juice as well: "By letting him go to Westeros? To do what? Spy for me this time?" 

"Partly yes..." he nodded "...but his true purpose could be to make sure that Dragonstone is yours even before you land there." 

"Stannis Baratheon was last to hold the ancestral seat of my family." she noted.

"Yes, he was. He retreated there after his defeat in the Blackwater Bay, then for some odd reason he went north, as far as the Wall. He managed to acquire a new army which was soundly defeated under walls of Winterfell, by Boltons. Stannis Baratheon is dead, my queen." 

Her eyes narrowed: "How do you know this?"

"Your Grace, my birds sing in the east same as they have in the west." he bowed slightly. 

"I see their song reaches you even behind the walls of this pyramid. Then, who holds Dragonstone now?"  
"Lords of Driftmark, sworn to Iron Throne."

She smirked: "House Velaryon you mean, sworn to Lannisters."  
"House Velaryon will join you the moment they see sails with three-headed dragon on the horizon. They share your blood." 

"So have Baratheons. Princess Rhaelle Targaryen, my great-aunt was Usurper's grandmother." 

"True. But how many times more have your ancestors wed Velaryons than Baratheons... they will rally to your side, that is certain." 

"And Jorah the Andal will come as my emissary to them, to have them gates of Dragonstone castle wide open for me?" "Yes, Your Grace." 

"Sweet words, my lord, though truth is not oft sweet. I have learned that long ago." was her cold answer.

"Yes, truth is usually bitter. But, from time to time, truth agrees with our plans or wishes.  
This is one such time for you, Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. The Realm nears utter chaos."

"Another song of your little birds?" queen asked, offering him a dried fig before taking one herself.

"Yes. Not a very pleasant song, Your Grace. Great troubles are taking place in King's Landing." 

"I am listening..." she said, unimpressed.

"An old foe of your house, Faith Militant... Sword and Star, my queen." 

"Faith Militant? They were disbanded in days of King Jaehaerys the Wise." she told him.

"Yes, and utter lack of wisdom from Cersei Lannister allowed them to be reborn. The new High Septon, a man called the High Sparrow, convinced her that Faith of the Seven will stand behind her son Tommen as one true king should she allow the Faith Militant to be restored. And she agreed. There is nothing more dangerous than a man or woman who trusts to be wiser than he or she truly is. Cersei Lannister is one of those, to be sure."

"Continue..." Daenerys said.

"Cersei hoped to use those fanatics against the Tyrells whom she loathed from the first day of their alliance and it seemed that they are working in her favor. First, Ser Loras Tyrell was arrested for buggery and then his sister, Queen Margery as well for she has denied her brother's bedding of men. Both were being held in the cells of Great Sept of Baelor." 

"They've arrested wife of that boy usurper? What did he do? Did he try to free her?" 

"No, Your Grace. Tommen is a weak king... a toy in hands of both his wife and his mother. And it did not take long for the latter to join the former as prisoner of the Faith Militant." 

"What?" Daenerys' eyes widened.

"High Sparrow, one that Cersei hoped to be her ally, arrested her after one of her cousins joined those fanatics and confessed being her lover and taking part in King's Robert hunting accident on her behest. He also accused her of bedding her brother Jamie. So, both queens ended up in hands of High Sparrow. And Tommen was again too weak do to anything about it."

"They're both held prisoner of this... High Sparrow?" she asked.

He shook his head: "Not Cersei, Your Grace. She was accused of treason, incest and regicide. She denied it all save adultery with her cousin.  
Faith Militant allowed her to return to Red Keep and wait her trial there... but what return that was..." 

"They've let her go? After such accusations?" 

"Your Grace, Cersei Lannister walked from the Great Sept of Baelor to the Red keep bare as on her nameday, her hair shorn with all the smallfolk insulting her along the way." 

Daenerys frowned again: "They made her to walk naked across the city, with people watching?" 

"Watching, calling her every name possible, throwing rotten fruit and worse at her... utter humiliation for a wife of one and mother of two kings." 

"Of usurpers, lord Varys..." she reminded him "...if this boy Tommen were true king, he would not have his mother and his wife at the mercy of armed septons. He would crush them as bugs." 

"Spoken as true Targaryen." he gave her an approving smile. 

"Tommen's wife and good-brother are still held by the Faith?" Daenerys asked. 

"They are. Alliance between lion and rose has cracked, Tyrells know whom to blame for that. And that knowledge will affect their resolve when you land in Westeros. Highgarden might not oppose you." 

"Small men and women fooling themselves how they are worthy of the throne my ancestors have built... they've brought nothing but ruin to Seven Kingdoms." 

And for that Seven Kingdoms need you. And Prince Aegon. Seven Kingdoms need house of the dragon restored. The Realm needs king and queen that have strength and wisdom both." 

"And in your learned opinion, we have that? Aegon and I?" she asked, not without grin.

"You could have gone the other way... opposing each other, him as last living Rhaegar's child, you as last living Aerys' child. Yet, you have united your claims the best way possible, as man and wife to be. And as father and mother to be..." 

She gave him a look, but he made a slight nod: "I've been around enough pregnant queens, Your Grace, both those who displayed their swollen bellies and those which have not. You have secured an heir to House Targaryen already. That solves the future of the Iron Throne. Indeed, Aegon and Daenerys Targaryen are the last hope of Westeros." 

"And you will serve us as we march to take the seat made of swords?" young queen asked, jesting.

"I shall. I have chosen you as my queen and him as my king. The Realm needs you. I serve the Realm, and the Realm needs peace." 

"You speak of the Realm as it were a living thing." Daenerys said.

"Yes, I do. For it is. Prince Aegon asked me what is Realm and I've told him that it is people... I say to you that Realm is children, thousands and thousands of them, highborn and lowborn, deserving to live in peace."

"Sweet words again... You say it because here I am called Mhysa... mother..." 

"Yes... and your people across the Narrow Sea deserves that as well, you as their mother." Varys said with courteous bow.

"I thank you for the news you have told me of Westeros, my lord. And I shall give you my reply on Ser Jorah's journey there very soon." she said with nod that made him know their talk was over.

"Do you truly believe that patience of our hosts is boundless?" Varys said upon entering Tyrion's chamber in the Great Pyramid and seeing him emptying one more bottle of wine. Lannister shrugged, paying more heed to the remaining content in the bottle.

"All you have been doing since we have arrived is drinking. It's beginning to irk the Targaryens, almost as it irks me." 

"I spoke with Her Grace and His Grace... they were not displeased..."

"They were not pleased either. You're only of value to them if you provide them with information about your sister, her son, their strengths and weaknesses. That is your role and I strongly suggest you play it to the best of your ability. You've played the role of bitter drunk more than enough." 

"My sister's strengths? What are those again? Every beggar in King's Landing has seen her tits and her twat... Oh, what a sight that must have been... lowest of the low throwing their own shit at naked Queen Mother... I wish I could have seen that. It would be the entertainment of my life." Tyrion grinned as he tossed the bottle away.

"I doubt that your head on a spike would have much fun. That would be your fate if you were in King's Landing these days. For the Faith Militant you're a kingslayer and twice a kinslayer... they would put you through all sorts of torture before killing you."

"Lucky me then. Should the patience of our hosts truly reach its end, they'll let one of their dragons to burn me. Painful, but swift death." Imp said raising his half-empty glass.

"You can be sure of that. Your family has blood of both Targaryens and Starks on their hands and by unexpected twist of fate you are in hands of both dragons and wolves. Be what you are, Tyrion Lannister, be clever. You may like them or not, but these young monarchs are yours and mine only chance to return to Westeros as men of influence." 

Tyrion smirked: "You hope they'll keep you as their Master of Whisperers, is that it?"  
"I hope they'll value my advice. Should they offer me a place in their court, I shall not turn it down. You could find your new future with them as well." 

"What future will that be? Will I be Hand of the King again?" dwarf grinned much to Varys' mislike:  
"No, but you could be lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West... you could have all the titles your father denied you. Once Daenerys and Aegon cross the Narrow Sea, your sister is good as dead, same as your brother, same as all Lannisters that will stand in dragon's way. I do not need to tell you this, you know this yourself."

"And in order for me to become the lord of Casterly Rock what services are expected of me?" 

"Do not play a fool, it does not suit you. Drunk yes, you have a natural talent for being one, but fool... no. I dare say that of all Tywin Lannister's children you're the least stupid one."

Tyrion raised his now empty glass again: "Here's to clever me." 

"Enough. In an hour I expect you in clean clothes and as sober as you can be. We shall join Prince Aegon in his second meeting with Captain-general of the Golden Company." Varys told him before leaving the chamber.

Harry Strickland was a tall man of brown hair, blue eyes and clean-shaven face. His clothes and breastplate armor were all fashioned to resemble gold. He was third generation of exiled Westerosi, ever since his great-grandfather lost his lands when he rose in the First Blackfyre Rebellion. Harry, same as his sire and his father's sire was born in exile and raised with the Golden Company. It was said by some that knew him how Harry Strickland has nose for gold, more than he has the belly for battle. Varys had no issue with that, he even liked the notion of Golden Company's leader not being a great warrior. All he has heard of one who was falsely called Jon Snow spoke of a great warrior. Golden Company will rally around Targaryen prince, they will follow strength, strength that will guarantee them return to Westeros after generations of exile. Varys hoped that gold was far more appealing to Strickland than blood and he was certain that captain-general is no halfwit. Halfwit could not make twenty thousand sellswords to follow him with discipline and obedience. 

"I am sorry for your loss, my prince. Beron Stark and I fought together in Disputed Lands... seven or eight years ago." Strickland said at his first audience with Queen and Prince.

"Aye, you have. He also fought against you three years ago." prince noted.

"Yes, that is true. His archers killed two of my elephants. First, he planted the field with caltrops, to pass it by my beasts were made to charge up the hill from which his bowmen rained arrows on them."

"I know, Ser Harry, I was there." 

"It is a damn shame he will not be with us when we depart for Westeros."

"It is a damn shame." dark-haired Targaryen agreed.

"Still, I've heard a lot of young captain in Beron's company, one with a large wolf at his side. I never expected to find that young captain being dragon riding Targaryen prince. Now, I have no doubts."

"No doubts about what, Ser?" Queen Daenerys asked.

"That you will take my men and me home. After more than a century, we shall return to Westeros, to our land. To your land." Strickland replied.

""Beneath the gold, the bitter steel..." Daenerys said "...your company was founded by Blackfyre men." 

"Blackfyres are gone, Your Grace. We are a Targaryen host now. Every single one of us. Twenty thousand men ready to die for the red dragon." 

"Good. I will hold you to those words." she gave him a slight nod. 

That was first time Strickland spoke with Targaryen couple. His second meeting was with Prince Aegon alone, joined with Varys and Tyrion.  
Large map of Westeros was stretched over the table in council chamber. 

"King's Landing... after taking Dragonstone, next move must be attack on the capital. Once Seven Kingdoms learn that House Targaryen again holds the Iron Throne, your foes and your allies will reveal themselves far sooner." Varys said.

"Easier said than done..." Tyrion countered, he was more presentable, even his breath did not give away that for last few days his food was mostly wine "...apart from my sister's army, I doubt that Faith Militant will welcome Targaryen restoration. And if we're to trust your little birds, people of King's Landing support them... no surprise there, they are foul lot that shifts loyalties as oft as whore..." he did not finish his words as Varys frowned at him.

A man once known as Jon Snow asked: "You say that very people of King's Landing could rise to arms against us? There are tens of thousands of people there." 

"Hundreds of thousands..." Tyrion added "...and should they turn out to be so mad, let them suffer consequences. An armed rabble is no match for the Unsullied or the Golden Company. Not to mention dragon flame." 

Varys shook his head: "Targaryen restoration cannot begin with dragons burning people..." 

"Oh, and here I am convinced that their original rule began exactly like that. By burning their enemies." Lannister smirked at him.

"I am quite sure that as a well-read person you know how Aegon's Conquest did not claim tens of thousands of lives." he countered.

"And I am quite sure that Dorne would strongly disagree..." Tyrion kept smirking.

"And I am entirely sure that I do not want to listen two of you debating of history..." came the warning from young prince "...rather tell me do you truly assume that this... Faith Militant is able to rally the people of Westeros against us?" 

Varys paused for a heartbeat: "Some among the smallfolk, not all of them, see this new Faith Militant as a force that battles immorality and corruption, as purest form of believers in the Seven. From the reports that are coming from Westeros, Faith Militant has been attacking taverns, ransacking brothels, beating street vendors that were selling idols of other religions. Fanatics who in dire times have certain appeal to the poorest in the land." 

"Savages. Only a savage ransacks a brothel..." Tyrion said with disgust before continuing: "We must assume that people of your late lady mother are also their enemies. Faith Militant sees religion of old gods as their enemy. Oldest enemy even." 

"How to battle them?" prince asked. 

Varys was about to speak, but Lannister was quicker: "Your namesake and ancestor, the first Aegon, took what is today Seven Kingdoms not all at once, but one after another. I advise you do the same. After Dragonstone you could address lords in Stormlands which are now headless with all of Baratheons gone, certainly offer alliance to Prince Doran Martell and to the Vale..." 

Spider frowned at the Imp, but he was content with what he said to their host. At last, it was not wine talking from youngest child of Tywin Lannister.

"Vale... Lysa Arryn is dead, my sister learned of that at the Bloody Gate. We do not know who rules there now." prince told Tyrion.

A sigh came from Vary: "Alas, my prince, I do. A man well known to lord Tyrion and me... Lord Petyr Baelish, better known as Littlefinger.  
He has wed lady Arryn shortly before she threw herself through the Moon Door." 

"Baelish...?" Tyrion's eyes widened "...I'd wager ten gold dragons that this jump of Lysa Arryn was not of her free will."

Varys nodded: "I'd wager twenty." 

He saw young Targaryen with Stark looks frowning so he told him: "That man would see whole of Westeros burn if he could be king of the ashes.  
A vile man, to be sure."

"Then we cannot count on the Vale..." prince concluded which made Varys to tilt his head: "I don't trust him having love of the lords of the Vale.  
For them he is an outsider upstart. Yet, it is possible that Baelish joins you and they do not. And the other way around. Though safest would be for Vale to remain out of the fray as they have thus far." 

"Thirty thousand men is not enough to conquer Westeros. I am well aware of it, so is my queen." Aegon told them.

"My prince, as I've said, the Golden Company and the Unsullied can break any army of Westeros. They've been bleeding themselves for three years now. A peasant clothed in Lannister crimson is no soldier, only a fancy dressed peasant." Ser Harry said with utmost certainty.

"And yet peasants dressed in crimson have won the War of the Five Kings." Tyrion said shrugging which made young prince to give him a dark look:

"Aye. They have. By Frey treason and by Tyrell bride. How many battles have your peasants clad in crimson won against my brother? How did you save King's Landing from Stannis? Your father was better merchant than he was a general, that is all I'll say of it." 

"You need not to worry of Lannister or Tyrell or any army, my prince..." Strickland told him "...you have dragons. Three of them. And two from what I've learned have riders now." 

"They're not large enough to be used in the battle. Not yet. Arrows and spears could take them down from the sky." prince said. 

Tyrion looked at him, unbothered by his warning tone from before: "Dragons fly in the night, do they not? And it is hard for archers in the dark to shoot, even at something as big as a dragon. You can use them in the night, to burn encamped armies. No matter how disciplined the army, notion of being burned alive while sleeping will make its soldiers to desert." 

Strickland agreed: "That is true. One or two enemy camps burned by your dragons in the night and no army will mass against you ever again." 

Young prince nodded: "Destroy enemy camp in the night and then descend upon them with your army with first rays of dawn... that could provide the victory."

"Take Dragonstone first, my prince..." Varys told him "...but before that secure the alliance with Dorne and with as much Stormlands lords as you can. Also, go to the North with lady Arya, go to White Harbor. Manderlys will support the last living child of lord Eddard Stark against traitors from Dreadfort." 

Tyrion spoke next: "I trust that lady Sansa is also alive, but till she is found, lady Arya is the last Stark of Winterfell. North will stand with her and by that with you. With North and Dorne, lords from other lands, those that once were Targaryen loyalists will rally to you. And you should send a message to Olenna Tyrell..." 

"Who is Olenna Tyrell?" prince wondered.

"Queen of Thorns, a true leader of House Tyrell. If you'll allow me, let Her Grace write a message to her. There is no love lost between lady Olenna and Cersei Lannister. Tyrells fought for House Targaryen during Robert's Rebellion till the very end. And that old woman is far too clever to let her family sunk together with Cersei. You may have the Reach on dragon side sooner than you think." Varys told him.

"If so, this Queen of Thorns will receive a letter from her true Queen." Aegon agreed then placed his finger on the Narrow Sea: "We still have to resolve the issue of ferrying thirty thousand men, horses and elephants across the sea." 

"I've counted the ships of this city's navy in the port..." Harry Strickland told him "...about ninety or so, yet they can carry hundred men along with sailors. You need three-fold many ships." 

Prince nodded: "I know. With ships from Astapor and Yunkai we're over two hundred, but it is not enough. We're still one hundred ships short." 

"For that reason, Ser Jorah Mormont should be on his way already, sailing to Driftmark, to bring Velaryons to your side. They have ships, scores of them. For generations Velaryons served as masters of ships to your forefathers. Let them serve as that again." Varys told him.

"Will they trust the word Jorah brings them, that he speaks for House Targaryen? Or will they send him to Red Keep in chains?" dark-haired man asked.

"They will. I am certain of it." Spider said with whole confidence. "How can you be so certain?" Tyrion asked.

"It was Velaryon ship that has brought Ser Harry here. And that captain has seen dragons above the Slaver's Bay and a dragon banner over Meereen." 

Prince Aegon Targaryen looked at him now with narrowed eyes: "All I've learned from Beron of you proves to be true, lord Varys." 

"I am glad that I have not disappointed you thus far, my prince. And that your cousin if he were still with us, would be pleased with my service." 

A smile appeared on young man's face, then he said: "I trust he would be. Though he did not use fancy words in saying his thoughts upon your work. One could find them offensive, even." 

Varys lifted an eyebrow: "Now I am curious to know what words did he use?" 

"He said that it’s probably better to have you inside our tent and pissing out, than outside our tent and pissing in."

Tyrion had a wide grin now, while Varys sighed deeply before answering: "Indeed, words lacking gracefulness, but an accurate description indeed." 


	31. JON

_Meereen, Essos, year 301 After Conquest_

**JON**

_"...The red priests love their fires..."_

He was used to the sight of men and women in red robes, servants of R'hllor, one god they called the Lord of Light or the Heart of Fire or the God of Flame and Shadow. Jon knew next to nothing of this deity before he came to Pentos. There was a great red temple there where R'hllor was worshiped. There was great temple in Lys and more than one in Myr. Essos had good share of folk that believed in this one god. God they believed to be a good god, god of life, light, heat. At first Jon thought so, that these people believe in one single god. 

It was not so. After few moons of campaign in Disputed Lands, where he met few of the priests dressed in crimson, but also those who believed in what they were preaching, Jon learned that there was another god in this faith. Or was that a demon. Lord of Darkness they called him, god of night and terror. Eternal enemy of their god of life, one that was bringing death, darkness and cold to the world. Darkness and light, heat and cold, death and life. All world was divided in two for the followers of this red god as it was known in Westeros. And all those which did not believe in R'hllor were non-believers or followers of demons.

Jon kept his distance from the red priests after he heard one of them calling the Seven and the old gods and all the gods save R'hllor to be false. He was raised to believe in the old gods, but he never cared to which gods other people were praying. Beron was raised in the faith of the Seven, even if he were a Stark, Pentos was far from any weirwood tree. Men in the Company of the Wolf worshiped many different gods and Essos was abundant with them. 

To his surprise, Missandei came before him in the ground level of the Great Pyramid that day to inform him of visitor from Volantis, a priestess of R'hllor.

More than three moons have passed since Dany and he rode the dragons for the first time. Her pregnancy was now common knowledge as she declared it before whole court when she was four moons with child. With children. There were two babes kicking in her belly, she was certain of it now and some healers agreed with her while others were not that certain. Jon wondered if former were only saying what they trusted young queen wanted to hear. He hoped they were right. Twins, he wanted them same as Dany. Aemon and Lyaenys. Lyaenys and Alysanne. Aemon and Tohrren. Or Beron...

 _Beron Targaryen_... he knew that his kinsman would laugh at the sound of that name even beyond grave. Yet, Jon wished for his first children to be boy and a girl. And he wished for them to be born in Westeros, on Dragonstone retaken. In wedlock. He knew that his children will bear Targaryen name no matter if Dany and he were married, she will see to that by legitimizing them the very same day they'll be born, but that was not good enough for him. The more time passed, more eager he was to leave Meereen and what was still known as Slaver's Bay. 

Still there was some work to be done here. In all three cities, councils were slowly taking the rule in their hands, there was no sign of Sons of the Harpy as earth itself has swallowed those that were still living same as dragons, crows, vultures and maggots have removed those that were killed in Daznak's Pit, leaving only bones to bake in the sun of that plain twenty miles from the city. Hatred was still there, of course, between once owned and once owners but they weren't killing each other at least. That was an improvement. Most of former slaves were again working for their former masters, but this time for pay and pay that could not be lower than Queen herself has declared. Other freedmen began to work for themselves as artisans, craftsmen or traders. Or whores as Yunkai now had few brothels owned by former bed slaves, places that attracted visitors from all around Slaver's Bay. Times were promising. Or at least they have appeared so.

Daenerys was still reluctant to leave and Jon understood her wholly. She has liberated the slaves of this part of Essos and she wanted to see that this liberty will continue long after she leaves for Westeros. Day of departure was nearing. They had a fleet of three hundred ships now, bulk of it were ships of three cities while others were hired captains, from Yi Ti to Volantis. And Ser Jorah Mormont who went from Astapor to Driftmark posing as common sellsword, sent reports that confirmed House Velaryon commitment to join their ancient allies as soon as they will be called upon. Reports from King's Landing spoke of Cersei being at odds with both Faith Militant who managed to turn young Tommen to their side and with House Tyrell who now blamed her for allowing this order of armed fanatics to be restored after two and a half centuries. _Seven Kingdoms are ripe for taking_ , Varys, Tyrion but also Ser Barristan repeated. Arya was telling him that as well, though she had no knowledge of politics.  
She wanted to go home. That same Arya came before him as he was making his way up the pyramid. 

"Jon... I've seen her... the red woman... the other red woman." she blurted in one breath. 

"What red woman? What are you saying?" he asked.

"Red priestess. She is here. She wishes to see you." his sister told him.

"I know, Missandei came to tell me." 

"Be wary of her, Jon. Those women are witches. I've met one of that lot, back in Riverlands. Red priestess. She came to buy Gendry from the Brotherhood and those cunts sold him... for gold." 

He frowned: "Who is Gendry? Ah, yes, I remember now, the blacksmith boy... So red priestess paid for common boy with gold?  
She truly must have needed a blacksmith." 

"Jon, do not make a jest of it. I've never seen him afterwards, who knows if he is alive. That witch took him to do her foul rituals... they burn people as sacrifices to this fire god they serve. And with the brotherhood was a red priest, though he was a warrior and a drunk. But he had power, Jon, power to bring men from the dead... I do not lie. I've seen it. Their magic is strong..." 

"All right, be calm. I will hear what this woman has to say. Nothing more. I've seen my share of red priests, Arya, since I came to Essos. I do not like them at all." 

Jon entered the throne room and found Daenerys sitting on the stone bench, with Ser Barristan standing watch at her right side.

She wore loose blue-white gown, her hair was unbraided and the very sight of her made his heart to beat faster, now same as every time. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen was the most important person of his life and soon he will have more of that person in the children they have sired together. Oft he wondered is it right to lust for a pregnant woman so, but as he was sitting down next to his beloved all he could think of is them making love on the throne of Meereen. She noticed that glow in his eyes and whispered: "I wish I could send them all away and have us defiling this bench again... but..." 

"Matters of ruling." he whispered back. " _Aye..._ " she nodded, smiling. "And whom do we expect today?" he asked, still in whisper.  
"We shall soon know..." she replied, then said to the Unsullied guard: "You may let them in." 

First a tall, broad shouldered man in red robe was to enter, a R'hllor priest, though he appeared more as a warrior. Jon knew of their slave soldiers, the Fiery Hand, this man could be one of those. Behind him, there was a young woman of great beauty. Long dark hair fell on her shoulders, she had green eyes, though what caught Jon's eye was a necklace adorned with red ruby. She stood still as a living statue dressed in red robe.

R'hllor priest finally spoke: "Kesir Kinvaro iōragon, Eglio Vokto hen Rijībliot Volantihot, Drīvo Perzo, Sylvio Ōño, Dohaeriro Ēlio Āeksio Ōño syt."  
_(Here stands Kinvara, High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis, the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom, the First Servant of the Lord of Light.)_

Then he stepped aside and priestess climbed few steps closer to the throne. Daenerys nodded, same as Jon though he whispered: "This one has nearly as much titles as you..."

Young queen made a slight frown, before addressing their guest: "Va Mīrīnot jemī jiōran. Issa iā bōsa ñuhoso hen Volantis naejot kesīr."  
_( Welcome to Meereen. It is a long way from Volantis to here. )_

"It is. But it is a road worth taking..." priestess replied in Common Tongue "...I came to meet you, Daenerys Stormborn. You are the one that was promised. From the fire you were reborn to remake the world."

Woman climbed few more steps as she was talking, enough to make Ser Barristan to make one pace towards her, but Daenerys gestured him that she allows her guest to come closer. 

"You have freed the slaves from their chains and crucified the masters for their sins... your dragons are fire made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light. They will purify the nonbelievers by the thousands, burning their sins and flesh away..."

Jon's eyes narrowed at these words and it did not escape Kinvara for she gave him a long gaze. 

"Nonbelievers... " he said, standing up from the throne "...that includes me as well. I do not believe in your god. Same as many of those who follow Daenerys Stormborn do not. Are we all to be burned away?"

"Yes, you were raised to believe in the gods of your mother's forebearers... the trees that have faces. The demons of old..." 

"Demons to you, not to me." 

Priestess smiled at him: "You have blood of the dragon in your veins. Dragons do not plant trees. Nor do they pray to them. Those trees were gods of Jon Snow, a bastard. Not gods of Aegon Targaryen." 

Then she turned to Daenerys who was seated down, listening to her words approvingly: "You have been sent to lead the people against the darkness. In this war and in the great war still to come." 

Jon shook his head: "Stannis Baratheon had one of your kind at his side. It was known for years. I've heard stories of him burning people alive following her counsel. She told him how he was the chosen one. He is dead now. Last report which came of him is that he was defeated beneath the walls of my once home. How could he fail so utterly if he were the chosen one? Has the will of your Lord changed?"

Kinvara looked at him: "Lord's will never changes. But men and women make mistakes, even honest servants of the Lord."

"So, given that you are an honest servant of the Lord, why should Queen and I trust you to know any more than your fellow priestess that counselled Stannis?" Jon asked next which made Daenerys to say:

"Prince Aegon holds the faith of old gods in high regard, yet he does not see priests of R'hllor as enemy..." 

Kinvara stepped closer to Jon: "Everyone is what they are and where they are for a reason. You most of all, Aegon Targaryen. Once you thought your destiny is at the wall of ice, a destiny befitting a highborn bastard. Yet, you have met this woman and soon the fire of your bond was burning so strong that there was no more life for you without her. And then you have found out the truth about yourself. Do you think that was mere luck? Your dead cousin could have chosen not to seek service with young Targaryen queen and yet he did. He took you with him, knowing you two shall meet. It was not Beron Stark's will, it was will of the Lord of Light. He could not have known that dragon blood will know dragon blood, that you two will crave for each other. It was all Lord's will. Child of storm and son of ice and fire... together you will face the enemy. Only together you can defeat him. Champions that were promised. If you fail, the world fails with you." 

"Our enemy is at King's Landing. A vane and cruel woman, yet hardly a threat to the whole world." Daenerys told her, not liking her words much.

"Lioness is not your true enemy. Your true enemy is thousands of years old. You know of whom I speak, son of She-Wolf. What were the words you have told to your little cousin... Brandon is his name, right? _Don't look away, father will know if you do.."_

Jon's face changed that very moment and he knew it has gone pale, Daenerys' eyes widened when she what change Kinvara's words brought to him.

"Brandon Stark did not look away. Nor was that man of the Night's Watch lying. He saw what he saw... he saw..." priestess continued to talk. 

"He saw the White Walkers." Jon ended her sentence, now visibly shaken. 

"Bosys bantis amāzis, se morghor zijomy amāzis." Kinvara said next. ( _The long night is coming, and the dead come with it. )_

"The dead? The dead are coming?" Daenerys looked at the priestess wondering if this woman in red robe is sane or not.

"They do. Prince Aegon can tell you more of it, Queen Daenerys. Once he wanted to be the shield that guards the realm of men. Now he can be just that. And you with him." 

"White Walkers? The long night? Please don't say that you believe in that." Daenerys said aloud as they have retired from the throne room to her chambers.

"That Wall was put there for a reason. And I truly doubt that wildling tribes were the reason to build three hundred miles long and seven hundred feet tall wall, stretching from one sea to another." Jon said.

"What she said affected you, I can tell. When she mentioned your cousin Brandon. And when she spoke of some man of Night's Watch..." 

"My father beheaded a deserter from the Night's Watch as law demanded it. That man kept saying how he saw the White Walkers. No one has seen them for eight thousand years. And that man was no coward. Uncle Benjen spoke of him well."

"So, you're keen on believing that creatures from ancient tales are true and not just old myths. What this priestess told us is how they have come back to this world after so many centuries to destroy it. I've read those stories from the books Jorah gifted me at my wedding. White Walkers riding on ice spiders, raising dead men and beasts to fight for them, wights that feed on flesh of living men... That was nothing more than tales of First Men to me, Jon. Not a true history." 

Jon remained silent for a while: "Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion are magical beings, they were born from the funeral pyre of khal Drogo. And you have told me of warlocks of Qarth and of visions you had in that House of the Undying. Magic exists in this world. Do you know when was the only time her dragon Silverwing refused Queen Alysanne? When she wanted to fly beyond the Wall. Three times she tried and three times dragon turned back south. She hid it from the Night's Watch, but it troubled her."

"Fire and Blood... you've read this in that book." Daenerys said, looking at him contently.

"Aye. I've been reading it anew for some time. That is history of my family. But old gods, Bran the Builder, the Long Night is also history of my family, my mother's family. And I don't trust it was mere cold that kept Silverwing from flying north of the Wall." 

Dany remained silent for a while, then she said: "I do not trust what Kinvara has told us, that our purpose is to stand against the White Walkers and the second Long Night as some prophesied champions of her god, do not ask that of me. But I will not call that impossible either. Our goal remains the same. Taking back the Iron Throne. All else does not matter. Once we are king and queen in the Red Keep, then we shall speak of ancient threats north of the Wall. Not before." 

Jon agreed: "If those ancient threats turn to be real, then Westeros must be united in that fight. Who better to unite it then child of storm and son of ice and fire?" He smiled saying last words.

She lifted her eyebrow and smirked at him: "Aegon Targaryen, you have many talents but sweet talking is not one of them. Perhaps you should be spending a bit less time with Imp and Spider..." 

"I'll strive to do so..." he said with another smile "...and what of Kinvara?" 

"I will speak with her alone. I want to know what she wants from us and what she offers us." 


	32. THE WINDS OF WINTER

_Meereen, Essos, year 302 After Conquest_

**THE WINDS OF WINTER**

_"...If you want it back, you must take it for yourselves..."_

"I trust there is a good reason for this haste audience, my lords." Daenerys said upon entering the council chamber, with Grey Worm killing both Tyrion and Varys with his stern gaze. It was late evening, time when Queen withdraws to her chambers. Prince was not in the Great Pyramid, this night he was to spend with his men, patrolling the city. Young Targaryen woman was a bit less than three moons away from giving birth and misliked when her rest was interrupted as it was case this night. 

"All right... you may speak." she said sitting across the table from them.

"Your Grace, a message came from one of my little birds..." Varys began.

"Why do you avoid calling them by their true name? Spies. It is not a curse or an insult." she commented. 

"Some of them are little children, Your Grace. A child should not..." 

"A child should not be a spy. True. A child should not be a soldier either. Yet, they sometimes became both...  
So, what song do your little spies sing?" 

"Grave song echoes across the Narrow Sea, my queen. Cersei Lannister has blown up the Great Sept of Baelor." Spider said with Tyrion sighing. 

Daenerys remained silent. Great Sept of Baelor. She has never seen it, save drawings of it in the books. It was built by one of her ancestors, the septon-king Baelor Targaryen. Some claimed he was madman as well, being so devout follower of the Seven. The Sept he has built was so massive its dome and towers were seen from anywhere in the city. She oft wondered how larger the Great Sept was from the Temple of the Graces, since books claimed Its seven bells were heard as far as Dragonstone whenever a king died. 

"Blown up? How does one blow up such a large building?" she finally managed to ask.

"Wildfire, Your Grace. She used the same substance with which I have defeated Stannis Baratheon..." Tyrion explained.

"Wildfire... beneath the Great Sept..." she sighed deeply "...my father put it there, same as many other places beneath the city, true?"

"It is true, Your Grace..." Varys nodded "...King Aerys ordered wildfire to be put beneath the capital, but it was Cersei Lannister who did what he intended. She killed scores of people..."

"There were people inside when she did it?" Daenerys asked, though she knew it was a dumb question.

"Yes, many have gathered to witness her trial. Instead of appearing on that trial, she used wildfire as her defense. High Sparrow, most of his followers, Queen Margaery, her father and brother, Cersei's own uncle Kevan Lannister... all dead. And King Tommen. Upon receiving news of his queen's death, he threw himself from the tower of Red Keep. He was the last of her children. His death will remove what small sanity was left in that woman..." Varys told her.

"What sanity?" Tyrion asked before continuing: "Joffrey was a monster, but Myrcella and Tommen were not. My niece died so suddenly, I still wonder how, but that boy... it was as Cersei has pushed him from that tower herself." 

"Your sister has blown up something my ancestor has built for all the people of Westeros and with that she has wiped out most of her enemies. Faith Militant is gone now, same as House Tyrell, right?" Daenerys said in even voice.

"Lady Olenna is in Highgarden, last of her family. My bird... my spy has told me, Cersei's men have hunted down and killed all followers of High Sparrow in the capital. She is removing the Faith entirely. They're fleeing to Stormlands, some as far as Dorne." Spider explained.

"With Tommen dead who will..." Daenerys paused and her gaze was as glued at Tyrion:  
"Your sister will declare herself as Queen of Seven Kingdoms. Am I right?" 

"You are, Your Grace." he confirmed "Path to Iron Throne is now clear for Cersei. At last she got what she wanted." 

"She will not hold it for long. Cersei Lannister is nothing more than one more usurper. And murderer..." young Targaryen said menacingly  
"...What do you advise me, my lords?" 

"Time is right to approach the Highgarden and the Sunspear. Tyrells, what is left of them, will join you after this.  
So will those who rule Dorne now, after death of Prince Doran. Or Cersei will strike at them next." Varys said.

"Then you should send message to Ser Jorah to leave Driftmark for Reach and for Dorne." she said to him.

"Lady Olenna Tyrell will never receive him, same as Dornish will not. He is a dishonored man that was hiding in exile for years.  
No, you must send a true envoy." Spider replied.

"And do I have such a man on this court?" 

"You do, my queen. I will go." Varys said.  
"You? You will sail from here to Sunspear to offer those mad Dornish an alliance? I must insist to accompany you on that journey." Tyrion told him, still in disbelief. 

"Trust me, Ser Jorah Mormont as my travelling companion would be tenfold less of an insult to my hosts in Dorne and the Reach than it would be my coming with a Lannister. You will remain here." 

Imp shrugged, while Varys said to silver-haired queen: "You have a third ally as well. Faith of the Seven. Yes, High Sparrow and his lot were fanatics, beyond doubt, but Great Sept of Baelor was the very heart of the Faith, people from all of Westeros would come to admire it and now it is reduced to a pile of rubble. Cersei Lannister declared war on the Faith, not the Faith Militant, the Faith of the Seven. For that it is important that Realm sees you as one who follows the Seven. Once on Dragonstone, you should declare Cersei Lannister as one who abandoned the Faith, a heretic which beds her own brother. While you, though raised in Essos, are true believer in the Seven. You must gather as many septons of influence to be at your wedding with Prince Aegon. With Great Sept gone, the Starry Sept in Oldtown shall be the center of the Faith again."

"Neither Prince Aegon nor me were raised in the Faith of the Seven..." she reminded him.

"Minor detail, Your Grace. Trust me that no one will ask from either of you to recite from _The Seven-Pointed Star."_ Varys smiled.

"As I see it, all these potential allies will join me not because they want me or Aegon on the Iron Throne, but because they want to get rid of Cersei Lannister." 

"You see it well, but it is important that you take the Iron Throne... Your army thirty thousand could grow threefold overnight. Dorne has thirty thousand spears and if Reach gives you same as many, that is almost one hundred thousand. A host that large will take all of Westeros, you don't even have to show your dragons." Tyrion said, his voice marked with certainty. 

"What of people of King's Landing? I am certain that scores of them died on the streets when Great Sept was blown up and still they suffer Cersei. No ruler can survive the uprising of the people. Meereen has proven that." Daenerys wondered.

"People of King's Landing are the worst kind of filth..." Tyrion said through his teeth "...they cheer you one day, they spit on you the other, then they cheer you again on the third day. I am certain how many will cheer Queen Cersei same as they have thrown shit at her only few moons ago.  
I have saved them from Stannis only to witness them wanting me punished for the crime I did not commit. Whatever fate has in store for them, they well deserve it."

Young queen gave him a look, then said: "I reckon vengeance is as good reason to fight on as any other. It is vengeance that you crave for, lord Tyrion. Not only to your sister, but to many more." 

"It is, Your Grace." 

"You shall have it. Serve me well and you shall have it." Then she turned to Varys:  
"Be on the first ship that sails westwards tomorrow. I'll provide you with enough gold to travel. I trust you can bring Reach and Dorne in the fold." 

Varys bowed and two men have left the chamber. 

"Do you know what he told me this morning..."  
Daenerys asked Jon while they were resting in the water pool. It was a warm night, reminding her of the very first time she made love to him, in that same pool. Even pregnant, Dany used bed and not only bed to be with Jon. She even found it amusing how her lust for him grew as her belly grew. When she was naked in his arms, nothing mattered, nothing existed, only warmth they shared, only fire of their bond. 

"Who?" Jon asked kissing her breasts gently. "Tyrion." 

"What did he say?" he placed another kiss on her nipple.

"He asked me if I was afraid." "Afraid of what?" 

"Of the great game... He calls it the great game. And he said that it is all right to be afraid for great game is terrifying." 

"Tyrion talks too much. He truly enjoys talking." he said, kissing her neck. 

"We all enjoy what we are good at..." "I do not." his eyes met hers.

"No, you do not. Same as your true father did not... but fighting and killing are not the only things you're good at, Jon.  
You're good at it, at this game Tyrion speaks of. You're good at ruling." 

He smiled and then shrugged: "I wonder how would my life turn out if I had not come to Pentos, if I had not joined Beron and his men...  
I'd be on the Wall, half the world away from you. We would have never met." 

"Mayhaps. And mayhaps fate would bring us together still." she said, running fingers through his black hair.

"How? True queen of Westeros and a sworn brother of Night's Watch, one who has sworn to take no wife and father no children..." 

"Yes. That would be an issue. At least for a while..." she grinned. "It would be an issue. Permanently." 

"Jon, an oath would not keep your body away from mine. No matter when and where our paths would cross, we would end up as we are now." 

He grinned now as well: "I doubt that Mother of Dragons would pay much heed to a bastard crow..."  
She slapped his behind hard: "That is for saying stupid things. I've paid a lot of heed to a bastard sellsword. In this pool, among other places..." 

Jon chuckled: "I like it, when you are irked." Her eyes narrowed: "And somehow you always manage to irk me, even when I know that you do it for your amusement, _Aegon."_

"And whenever you're irked you call me Aegon, with that scolding tone... it amuses me even more." he said before embracing her. 

"He is right, you know... the Imp, taking Westeros is a great game, Dany. I hope we are ready for it." 

"I hope that too... I was never there. I was only born there. It's a foreign land to me. You've lived there at least..." 

"I've never been south of White Harbor. I've seen only North and not even all of the North. King's Landing is as foreign to me as it is to you." 

Violet eyes looked at grey eyes: "So, here we are, two foreigners coming for the Iron Throne."  
"It matters not. Aegon the Conqueror was foreigner as well." 

Daenerys sighed and that made him ask right away: "What troubles you?" 

"Meereen... Yunkai... Astapor... I feel my work... our work here is not done yet." "You fear that slavers will grab the power again, with you gone." 

"I do, yes." "It is too late for that, Dany. This freedom you have brought to people here, it lasts for a long time now, they will not allow to be put in chains ever again. Nor will once masters risk to be wiped out. They knew all too well that without you and your armies, no one will stand between them and the wrath of their once slaves. People here now have their councils and their city guards. They will learn to rule themselves." 

"I hope that you're right. If you're wrong..." she said, still doubting. 

"If I am wrong, it should not take long for a grown dragon to fly from Westeros to here. Anyone defying order you have established here..." Daenerys nodded, agreeing without words. 

She chuckled next: "Did you notice how everyone expects from us to be their champions...  
Varys wants us to be champions of smallfolk of the Realm, Tyrion wants us to be champions of vengeance against his sister.  
I trust Tyrells and Martells will expect the same, Faith of the Seven could have us as their sword against queen heretic...  
And Kinvara wants us to be champions of her god. Against the Night... _for the night is dark and full of terrors._.."

"Aye, it sounds as a jape, but..." he said pensively.  
"I don't know, Jon. I am the last person to jape when magic is in question, but..." she looked at him.

"It still does not seem as possible to you." "No." she said, shaking her head.

He placed his hand on her cheek: "I am keener on trusting Kinvara than you. But what she says does not change a thing.  
What I want is to throw out the lions from the Red Keep and the Boltons from Winterfell. That is all that matters to me." 

"And to me, my prince." Daenyers said before sharing a long kiss with her man.

Nearly two moons have passed since Varys has left for the Seven Kingdoms.  
No report yet came from him and doubts began to raise in minds of two young Targaryens.

It was early morning of that day and Jon was with Molono Yos Dob and Skahaz mo Kandaq in council chamber of the Great Pyramid, discussing the progress of city guard of Meereen and having more barracks founded for them all over the city. 

"Jon! Jon!" Arya rushed in the room, wearing only dark breeches and sweat-stained shirt, she was barefoot, which meant his sister was coming straight from her swordplay training. 

"Lady Arya..." they both greeted her with slight bowing of head, while Jon gave her a frown: "Arya, what is it? Can't it wait till this meeting..." 

"Come quick! This cannot wait! Come to the terrace now!" she spoke loudly, catching her breath.

Only then Ser Barristan Selmy appeared at the chamber door: "Forgive me, my prince, lady Arya is much swifter up the stairs than I am.  
But there is something you should see, right away." 

"All right, then we shall all go to the terrace. Lead the way, _my lady_..." 

Arya gave him a dark look before she paced across the room and stepped out on the terrace.  
She raised her left hand: "Look! At the sea! Look!" 

Jon was first on the terrace after her, followed by old knight and two councilors. Her eyes went where Arya was pointing. And soon they were wide.

He saw dozens of ships approaching the city, some larger, some smaller, but it was an entire fleet coming from the open sea. He could tell that many of them were ships of war, while others seemed as merchant vessels. This fleet sailed in a tight formation and was advancing towards the port of Meereen. 

"Are they friends or foe? Are they attacking? Has Volantis..." he was asking loud questions struggling to see their colors.

Ser Barristan offered him a Myrish eye: "Here, my prince, now you will be able to tell who they are."

Jon noticed how Selmy is calm and content, but his whole attention was on the coming ships.  
Through the bronze tube he looked at the sails in the distance.

"What do you see, Jon..." Arya asked, her face marked with smile.

"I see blue sails with seahorse sigil... green sails with golden rose.. red sails with... grapes on a blue shield..."

"House Velaryon, House Tyrell, House Redwyne. Westeros is coming for their true king and queen." Selmy told him while eyes of this old man glowed.

Jon turned around and looked at him, he was silent for a heartbeat, then he asked: "How many ships are there?" 

"Between eightscore and two hundred, if I am any good at counting." Ser Barristan replied, while Arya was jubilant:

"Do you know what this means, Jon? We're going home, we're going home at last... If only Beron were with us now." 

"I wish that as well, lady Arya." Selmy said with sad tone in his voice.

"He will travel with us. I am returning him to Pentos. Save his heart..." Jon told him.

All present save Arya frowned at Jon's words. "It was his last will. To bury his heart in the crypts of Winterfell. We shall honor that will, Arya and me both." 

His eyes went back to the Meereenese bay, it seemed to him as a blue field now, planted with flowers of many colors. 

Then he rushed away, through the council chamber and the throne room, to the uppermost level.  
He has found Daenerys, heavy with child, leaned on the terrace wall watching with her own Myrish eye. 

"Dany! Do you see them? The ships..."

"I do. Our fleet has arrived, my king to be..." were her words as he turned to him "...our allies are here." 

He wrapped his hands around her: "You know what that means, don't you?"

"That, Aegon Targaryen, means we shall be on Dragonstone six weeks from now. If we sail, but we shall not.  
We shall fly. I am not having our babe or babes born aboard some ship." 


	33. DRAGONSTONE

_Narrow Sea, Westeros, year 302 After Conquest_

**DRAGONSTONE**

_"...we shall take what is ours..."_

"This does not feel as home. I hoped it will, but it does not." she said looking at the man she loved as they both paced around the Painted Table.

He smiled at her and she frowned right away: "What? I am being silly?" 

"No. You feel here same as I would in the Red Mountains. Place of birth is not always home. This is not your home. Not yet. But it will be. Soon. You know what I mean."

She placed her hands on her large belly: "I do. Home is where your children are born."

Children. That thought warmed Jon's heart. Young maester that served on Dragonstone, one named Pylos, examined her and there was no doubt now that Targaryen queen bears two babes. At their first encounter Pylos was wary of Jon and Daenerys, he has heard reports and rumors from across the Narrow Sea of dragon queen and her prince, both cruel and vengeful, killing those who would oppose them by hundreds, feeding many to their dragons. When three dragons landed on ancestral Targaryen island Pylos feared the worst. By then Dragonstone was already taken by men of House Velaryon, joined by Celtigars of Claw Isle. Both houses of Valyrian ancestry, one led by nine year old boy, another by an old man of seventy namedays. Dragon banners were again waving on Stone Drum, Sea Dragon and Windwyrm towers, some seemed to be sown yesterday, while on some the black-red cloth was weathered. Pylos knew Velaryons and Celtigars were not only houses that have kept the Targaryen banner hidden in the wooden chests of their castles. He knew many more will be fluttering in the wind. And he was certain of it when he met young dragon couple. They were not what he feared them to be. Queen Daenerys had Valyrian features while Prince Aegon favored his mother, one that should have married a Baratheon but was taken by queen's older brother as stag family believed or she went by her free will as Pylos has learned during his first week with new rulers of Dragonstone. In that time he grew to like them as they acted not as scions of a dynasty that has ruled over Westeros for three hundred years. First what young queen wanted to know was there enough food for the smallfolk on the island and are there any diseases. And she promised that her fleet will bring food and many healers from Essos. Pylos saw prince as serious and dutiful, but unlike many of his ancestors, this dark-haired Aegon Targaryen was not an arrogant man. And he was raised as a Northerner which was curious to young maester. 

"Queen Daenerys is with twins, my prince. That is certain. I find it odd that healers in Essos failed to tell her so before." 

"They did, some of them, yet their opinions differed." 

"It can be so when woman is not heavy enough with a child... this will be your first offspring, right?" maester wondered.

"Aye. Mine and hers..." then a shadow passed over prince's face for it was not true when queen was in question, but it was not a lie either. Her first child was not born.

"Targaryens should be born on Dragonstone..." Pylos said pensively "...forgive me, Prince Aegon, I know that you weren't born here, same as many of your kin..."

"There's nothing to forgive, maester. You seem to agree with restoration of House Targaryen to the Iron Throne?" 

"I am a maester of the Citadel. Servant of Dragonstone, if you will. It is not mine to ponder politics." 

"That chain you wear does not prevent you from having an opinion or uttering one." 

"My prince, I barely had nine namedays when dragonkings were no more. I knew only a stag king well and for most of that time, Seven Kingdoms were at peace. That time is now gone. Need for peace is not. And it is possible that blood of the dragon could unite this continent as it did once before. Others that crave the Iron Throne will not." 

"Was Stannis able to do it? Take the Throne and restore the peace?" Targaryen of wolf blood asked.

"I trust he was, yes. Yet even most able men falter. And he faltered. He allowed higher mysteries to guide him and not reason. For that he abandoned this place and went to land that was your home. And there he perished with his army." 

"You're a sincere man, maester Pylos. Winterfell had such a maester. Remain so and you have nothing to fear from me or my queen." 

Jon ended his pondering: "Yes, I believe it to be true. Home is where your children are born. We shall make Dragonstone our home." Jon said as his gaze trailed over the carved wooden table to Winterfell. And further north, to the Wall. And beyond it. Yet only briefly as grey eyes were back at King's Landing. Figurines with lion heads were mostly gathered around the capital, with one or two in Riverlands and Casterly Rock. Vale had Arryn falcon while North had flayed man in Winterfell, but also merman in White Harbor and sunburst in Karhold. In the south, Tyrell rose dominated the Reach, same as speared sun did with Dorne. Yet, what he knew is that both houses are in truth no more. 

"Not so many lions..." Daenerys noted.

"No. Cersei holds sway over the capital, Riverlands which Lannisters have occupied with their Frey servants and Westerlands. The Reach has cut bonds with her same as Dorne, Vale is silent and gods only know what the Ironborn are up to. The North..." 

"Boltons..." she said looking at him "..it pains you to see that ugly sigil placed on Winterfell." He nodded: "Treason cannot go unpunished.  
Only good thing is that Boltons know how North despises them and are in no shape to send any aid to the Lannisters." 

"That letter by lord... Wyman.. right?" Dany asked.

"Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor. I have to say I did not expect Varys to be sending a message to Manderlys.  
Yet he did, informing them how heir of Winterfell is coming back on dragon wings." 

"And he answered, using a man loyal to Stannis Baratheon as messenger. Clever. If this man were caught, lord Manderly could call that letter a forgery, a part of scheme of remnants of Baratheon men." 

"Old Wyman counts over sixty namedays, he's been ruling for decades. He knows how game is played. And he wishes to see both Arya and me in White Harbor, before he makes his move." 

"Does he know you? And Arya?" "He's seen us once in Winterfell, but were were children then." 

"And if he believes that she truly is daughter of Ned Stark..."  
"North will raise against Boltons the very next day. Who will side with traitors and oathbreakers?"

Dany shrugged: "Other traitors and oathbreakers, I guess. Or those who have already benefited from Boltons as wardens of the North or hope to benefit."

"There is precious few of such. Boltons are usurpers. And when lords of the North learn that there is one trueborn Stark living and soon to be a woman grown, Boltons are doomed." 

"Let us hope to be so. You have spoken with this messenger... this onion knight. What a funny name." Dany smiled as she lifted dragon figurine from the table and placed it back.

"When host loyal to your father was besieging Storm's End, defenders led by Stannis Baratheon were starving as they were blocked from both land and the sea, but Ser Davos Seaworth, being a smuggler, managed to get onions and salted fish into the castle. That kept Stannis and his men in the fight till the war was over and siege lifted..." then Jon chuckled. 

"What is so amusing?"  
"As a reward, Stannis Baratheon knighted that smuggler, but as punishment for his past crimes he cut off the first joints on the fingers of his left hand." he explained to Dany.

"Why?" "It seems how Stannis believed that good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad the good." 

"He did not have many friends, did he?" Dany made a jest and then said with seriousness: "Though one cannot argue with such reasoning. Where is this onion knight now?" 

"Here, he wishes to remain on Dragonstone and has offered his services to House Stark." "To House Stark?" 

"Aye, not out of love for direwolf banner, that is certain, but out of hatred for the Boltons who have killed his king..." 

"Many people around us want to sup on vengeance, vengeance that we shall serve. Yet is is justice that I want to bring to Westeros." 

Jon nodded then he pointed at the island on the western shore of the North: "You know what place that is?"

She smirked at him: "Bear Island, it is written on it, _Aegon_..."  
Then her face changed and he said: "Perhaps you should consider that reasoning of Stannis Baratheon. And use it on Ser Jorah Mormont."

"He betrayed me." she hissed. "That he did. But he also served you before that betrayal was revealed and later, when he was banished, in Astapor and here. I dare say amount of his good acts overweight the bad ones." 

"You speak in his favor? You? He has loathed you from the first."  
"And I have loathed him from the first. But, it is not I that must decide what to do with him. Justice, not vengeance..." 

Dany's eyes narrowed: "Gods, how I sometimes mislike when you are right, Jon." "I know..." he smiled at her.  
She smiled back at him: "I could not do what I did in Meereen without you. And only together we can take Westeros. Together." 

"I live for you and for those babes you carry under your heart. All I do, all I've done and all I will do is for you and them.  
Not for the throne or honor or glory or duty or justice... only for you and our children. My queen." 

"My king..." she bowed her head to him, smiling "...is Your Grace ready to meet our allies? I trust they have waited long enough." 

"We've given them time to ponder upon what they saw, two dragonriders coming from the sky." 

Olenna Tyrell was all that Ellaria Sand was not. Queen of Thorns was old, seventy namedays and more though she seemed as to be nearing hundred in Dany's eyes. Frail in appearance, her black clothes added even more to it, but not of frail wit or will which both she and Jon have learned quickly. Dornishwoman seemed threefold younger and was more outspoken. A cunning crone and a passionate paramour. Those are my allies in the south, Dany thought. 

"Aegon Targaryen... there was one prince of that name. Nephew of a man I loved, son of his sister that would have been queen one day. Not a son of a woman who seduced Crown Prince to abandon his wife and children. You have a wolf's face, not one of a dragon."

Ellaria's words were exactly those Jon expected them to be and he remained calm, but she would not suffer that. 

"My brother has wed lady Lyanna Stark. After his first marriage was annulled. Prince Aegon is his trueborn son.  
Named to honor his babe half-brother that was butchered by Lannister men. We have shown you the letters. One written by my brother..."

"Rhaegar has dishonored himself with this second marriage..." Ellaria said with contempt.

That was more than Jon was ready to bear: "Dishonored? Use your words carefully, my lady. My mother was not Rhaegar's paramour.  
My mother was Stark of Winterfell. She was his wife, same as Princess Elia was when that marriage was still valid."

"Princess Elia died because Rhaegar left her for your mother." 

"She died because Tywin Lannister saw fit for her and her children to die. Same as you saw fit for her brother and his son to die." 

"What do you mean?" Ellaria hissed at him. 

"You know well what I mean. Deaths of Prince Doran, his son and lady Myrcella Lannister were not accidents, were they? That girl was poisoned. Prince and his heir were murdered. Do not deny it." Jon told her dryly.

"Lady Myrcella... a bastard born out of sibling fuckery..." Dornishwoman countered.

"Yes. She also was an innocent girl which bore no guilt for crimes of her grandfather. Or her mother. Same as I do not bear any guilt for my father leaving Elia to find another wife, do I? You have killed the rightful ruler of Dorne and usurped his throne. If I were Dornish, I would have an issue with that. But, I am not. My fight is with the usurper on the Iron Throne and the usurpers in Winterfell. Men of Dorne will decide will you last or not as ruler of Sunspear." 

"If you judge me so, then why have you asked for this alliance?"  
Jon shook his head: "I do not judge. It is not mine to judge you. Nor is yours to judge me or my mother or my father." 

"No, it is not hers to judge you nor can she. I trust these letters you have shown us not to be forged. And I will not question the men who have signed them. I will not question Rhaegar Targaryen's written words and even less words of sworn brothers of Kingsguard of old, when there was still honor among the white cloaks. I will not question honor of Ser Gerold Hightower same as anyone ruling Dorne should not question honor of Ser Arthur Dayne." 

Olenna Tyrell's voice rang across the chamber, her eyes darted at Ellaria. There was no love among them, _the serpent's whore_ old Tyrell woman called her once.

"Yes, Prince Aegon favors the look of his Stark mother. As I am only one here that has seen his Targaryen sire, I can see traits of him as well.  
You are a dragon under wolf skin, my prince." Olenna said to Jon and made a slight nod before turning to Ellaria:  
"You have seen our future king and queen on their dragons. Is your knowledge of history so poor that you do not know only those of Targaryen blood can ride a dragon?" 

Daenerys was growing weary of this talk: "Prince Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, is the heir of the Iron Throne same as I am.  
I do not dispute him same as he does not dispute me. We have come before you with united claims and with future heirs that soon shall be born. We bring you Targaryen restoration and peace for the Seven Kingdoms, peace under its true king and queen." 

It was enough for two women to listen to her in silence. 

"I am not fooling myself with belief that our alliance is fruit of your love for House Targaryen. True, men of Dorne and the Reach have bled with my brother at Trident but years have passed since. I know that you are here for you wish the vengeance against Cersei Lannister. Standing with dragons, you will have your vengeance. We have gathered here to decide how to act. Where to strike first." Dany said next.

"Spider told us that you're coming with host of thirty thousand." Ellaria said.

"It is so..." Dany replied "...twenty thousand of the Golden Company and eight thousand of the Unsullied." 

"And the Dothraki?" Olenna asked. "I have only a handful of Dothraki with me, why do you ask?" 

"Cersei has been trying to rally lords of Westeros to her cause by spreading news of you bringing those savages to our shores." old lady answered.

"No, my lady, only foreign army that marches with me are the Unsullied and they are more disciplined than any host in the Known World." Dany replied with smile.

"And the Golden Company...." Olenna returned the smile "...exiles that have fled Westeros with Blackfyres are now returning with Targaryens." 

"It is so. They are exiles, but Westerosi nonetheless, no matter their Essosi mothers or grandmothers. They will not rape or pillage or burn unless ordered so. And I will not order them that. Aegon will not either." 

Olenna nodded, then Ellaria said: "When your fleet arrives with your armies, you must hit King's Landing. Hit it hard. City will fall in one day." 

Queen of Thorns agreed: "The Reach will march on the capital the very hour first dragon sails are seen in the Narrow Sea. Dorne should do the same. Cersei has not enough men to oppose us. And her troops from Riverlands and from the West will not dare to march to her aid, not with your dragons above their heads." 

"Who will fight for her? What other houses?" Jon asked.  
"Whoever joins her cause is a fool or a madman..." Olenna told him "...rumors are she has one of the latter. Euron Greyjoy seems to have allied with her." 

Jon's face changed into disgust: "Then, the Ironborn have sided with Cersei Lannister." 

"Not all of them. Same rumors claim that daughter of Balon Greyjoy and her uncle Euron are now enemies, fighting for the Salt Throne." Olenna added. 

"It would be wise to approach this Ironborn woman..." Ellaria advised.

"My brother... Robb Stark trusted in one of Greyjoys and regretted it bitterly. The Ironborn can't be trusted." Jon said, more to Daenerys than to Dornishwoman. 

"What of Vale?" Dany asked.  
"If Ironborn can't be trusted, neither can Petyr Baelish who has nested there. Leave them be, behind their mountains for now." Olenna advised.

"And if this Baelish were to join with Cersei?" young queen wondered.

"Then you should burn the Eyrie with him inside." Olenna advised.

"I will... we shall burn our foes only when there is no other way to have victory." Daenerys told her.

"You should not let your foes to know that. They must fear you. They must fear the very notion of you." Ellaria advised. 

"Our enemies will fear us. I wish not for people of Westeros to fear us. Nor does my king to be." 

"You want to be loved..." Olenna looked at her "...it is no wonder. You are both young. But, I urge you not to be foolish."

"Wise King and Good Queen were loved." Dany blurted out, though she regretted it the very next moment.

Old woman's face softened: "You strive to be Jaehaerys and Alysanne of our time, then. It's a tempting notion, I admit. And a wrong one.  
My granddaughter was greatly loved. By commoners and nobles alike. She is only ashes now. A beloved ruler will not tame the Seven Kingdoms." 

Jon said: "We shall seek neither love nor fear from the people of Westeros. Only their respect." 

"And pray tell how will you make them respect you?" Olenna asked him.

"By granting mercy to the weak, help to the helpless and justice to all." dark-haired Targaryen nearly recited.

"That will truly be a great endeavor. But, before that you shall have a lot of blood on your hands." she replied with Ellaria nodding, her gaze was as Jon has said an utter foolishness.

"I had blood up to my elbows in Slaver's Bay, my lady. And trust me, I had dealt with the nobles there same as they were street beggars.  
I will do the same here. Or worse." he answered with a cold, grim tone.

Tyrell widow gave him an approving smile: "You are the first one of both dragon and wolf blood. Now, both have spoken at once. Good. Very good." 

Daenerys rose from the Painted Table: "In a week, ten days at the most, our ships and yours will bring our army to Westeros. Use that time to muster your forces and prepare them to march on King's Landing. Dragonstone, Dorne and the Reach will meet beneath the walls of the capital. Days of the false queen are numbered. I wish you safe travel to your homes." 

"I had such a wish to slap Ellaria Sand." Dany told him as they were lying sideways next to a hearth in their chamber.  
They were both naked and she enjoyed the heat coming from the fire. Weather on Dragonstone did not agree with her and she was oft cold which amused Jon who said days as such in the North are considered summer. He chuckled placing another wood in the fire: "That would be the swiftest way to end our alliance with Dorne." 

"Alliance... Lady Olenna is with us for she wants to see Cersei dead. I don't blame her, she killed the future of her House. Ellaria is with us because she fears Cersei's vengeance, she murdered her daughter." Dany shook her head.

"She should fear the Dornish lords more. She killed their rightful ruler. A man who seemed to prefer peace over revenge. Mayhaps they saw it as cowardice and agreed to remove him, but she grabbed the power. I doubt great lords of Dorne will suffer that for long." Jon told her, running fingers through her hair.

"I fear our alliance with Highgarden and Sunspear is frail. For that we must take King's Landing as soon as we can... these Ironborn that have come to Cersei's side... can they make a difference?" she asked.

"On the sea, aye. Though I do not trust they will seek battle with whole fleet of Slaver's Bay, Redwyne fleet and Velaryon fleet.  
Well, if that Euron is a madman as many claim him to be, then even that is not certain." 

"What if they turn on Dragonstone? We don't have even a score of ships here..." 

"Dany, not even a madman would send his fleet against an island guarded by three dragons. They are not yet fully grown, but they can burn his fleet in the night. All of his fleet." 

She sighed: "I hope you're right. I want this war to end before our babes are born..." A shiver came over her body. "Are you still cold?"

"No. I had a thought... Jon, our children will not be driven out from this island as newborn babes. They will not suffer my fate.  
I would rather die here, with you and them than to flee into exile once more."

"Exile?" He laughed and then glint was in his eyes: "Never again will Targaryen be made to leave Dragonstone.  
This I swear to you and to our unborn babes. Even if blood of our enemies would reach my shoulders now." 

"I swear the same to you and to them." she said, placing hand on her belly.

Someone knocked on the chamber door. It was locked and Dany asked with irked voice: "What is it?" 

"Your Grace, someone has come to seek audience with you." came from the other side of the door. It was one of Velaryon guards.

"At this hour? Who is it?" 

"A woman, Your Grace. Priestess of that fire god from the east. She claims it is an urgent matter." 

Dany looked at Jon: "It can't be Kinvara, right? How could she..."  
Then she asked the guard on the other side of the door: "Has she given you her name?" 

"No, my queen. But I know of her. She is whole clad in red, even her hair is red. The Red Woman. Once she rode with Stannis Baratheon." 


	34. CHILDREN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so this story has come to its end. Story of Jon not going to the Wall, but to Essos where he meets Daenerys and many things play out differently.
> 
> At this point, story ends chronologically at the same point where GOT TV show was in Episode 2 of Season 7, the differences are:  
> Dany is at Dragonstone but Jon is with her same as Ser Barristan who made it back to Westeros alive, Arya is there as well and Dany has not brought the Dothraki with her, instead she has the Unsullied and the Golden Company. Jon and her are both dragon riders. Varys is somewhere between Dorne and the Reach, while Tyrion is not part of Dany's inner circle.
> 
> Boltons are still usurping the North, but without support from Cersei whose new ally is Euron Greyjoy.  
> The other Ironborn fraction has not yet joined with Targaryens, but Dorne and the Reach have and King's Landing is primary objective for Team Jon&Dany.  
> Reuniting North against the Boltons is of highest importance for Jon and Arya.  
> As Jon has not brought wildlings south of the Wall, Umbers will not join with Boltons.  
> As for Karstarks... I am not sure yet.
> 
> White Walker plot is of course crucial for the story and it will take place as it should have, not as a subplot. Jon has sent Jorah to bring Samwell Tarly to Dragonstone. They do not know each other and it will be interesting to write them in these new circumstances. Of course, there will be no "wight hunt" and no losing Viserion so stupidly as it happened on the show, nor will Night King use the zombie dragon to bring the Wall down. 
> 
> All this is basically an intro to the sequel of this story that I plan to post here in a few months or so, when I'll be able to "return to Westeros."
> 
> Also - those lines in Maester Aemon's letter about ice and fire - those are GRRM's own words from his interview eight years ago - http://www.adriasnews.com/2012/10/george-r-r-martin-interview.html  
> As many fans cling on the that poem of Robert Frost and claim that GRRM considers ice and fire to be equally bad, it seems from this interview that he does not unless he equals love/passion with betrayal/revenge.
> 
> Many thanks for all your comments, kudos and bookmarks.

_Dragonstone, Westeros, year 302 After Conquest_

**CHILDREN**

_"...a Targaryen alone in the world... never again..."_

They have received her in the throne room of Dragonstone. It differed greatly from the throne room in the Great Pyramid of Meereen. It was dark, floor, walls, throne itself. All dark. Dany did not like it. Nor did Jon. Room was much too grim for their taste. Throne itself though was not as elevated as one in Meereen and it was a seat carved in stone, not a bench with which Dany replaced the gilded harpy. 

"There is only room for one..." Daenerys noted when they stepped inside for the first time. 

"You can sit on my lap..." he japed right away.

"Imagine receiving petitioners in that fashion, Her Grace sitting on His Grace and acting all serious and stern..." she chuckled. 

"I love when you laugh, Dany... if only that were more oft." 

"I laugh only when I am with you. You've brought me happiness, Jon. First as a Snow and threefold more as a Targaryen." 

"Come then, time to take the throne of Dragonstone." he said walking up the throne stairway.

"I am not going to sit on your lap, _Aegon_." 

He shrugged: "And thus only redeeming quality of this throne is lost." 

"All right. This one time. But make sure we are alone in here." she shook her head and smiled.

"We are. I've told all the guards to stand watch outside all entrances to this room. Come..." 

And so, three hundred years since he was seated upon it, descendants of Aegon the Conqueror, were sitting on the Dragonstone throne, young man sat on the carved seat and young pregnant woman took place on his lap with his arms around her. 

"I think we should do the same with the Iron Throne as well." Jon said. She laughed: "I trust all of King's Landing would speak of a king who can't let his queen from his arms even when he holds the court... lustful dragons they would call us." 

"Are we not? Lustful dragons?" he asked before kissing her neck. "I am a lustful dragon... you are a lustful dragonwolf..."

"That I am.." he said kissing her neck again, this time biting it gently.

"Jon... stop... or we shall defile this throne same as we did one in Meereen..."

"Are my plans so obvious?" he whispered to her ear, his breath causing her to shiver: "Yes, Jon... they are..." she grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast. 

"There is no going back now, dragonwolf. Do what you're are best at... and you love doing what you're best at." 

"Dārȳs Daenerys. Dohaeriros istin, sindita liortā, qilonta ozbartā. Riglose Belmo Pryjati rhaenan."  
R'hllor priestess spoke in High Valyrian ending Dany's musing on their first day in the throne room.  
( _Queen Daenerys. I was a slave once, bought and sold, scourged and branded. It is an honor to meet the Breaker of Chains._ )

She was a graceful woman of pale skin and hair of color that reminded of deep burnished copper. Same as all other priests of R'hllor she wore clothes of red fabric. Same as priestess Dany has met in Meereen this one also had a tight necklace with ruby stone. 

"Meli Voktyssy Mīrīnī lyks mazverdagon beldis. Kesīr drējī jiorilaks. Skoroso jemele brōzia?"  
( _The Red Priests helped bring peace to Meereen. You are very welcome here. What is your name?_ )  
"Melisandrose brōziks." ( _I am called Melisandre_.)

"You are the Red Woman that counselled Stannis Baratheon. It did not end well for him..." Jon said, his tone far less welcoming than Dany's.

"No, it did not." Melisandre replied.

"Prince Aegon does not worship the Lord of Light. Nor do I. Nor does most of Westeros... there are not many followers of your faith in Westeros, right?" Daenerys said trying to ease the talk.

"Not yet. But even those who don't worship the Lord can serve his cause..." priestess said "...Meri kīvio dārilaros ōz maghagon kostas."

"Only the prince who was promised can bring the dawn..." Jon frowned "... And I reckon the next you will say... Bosys bantis amāzis, se morghor zijomy amāzis..."

"The Long Night is coming and the dead are coming with it. Yes, Prince, it is so." 

"Your High Priestess, Kinvara of Volantis told me the exact same words in Meereen." 

"Kinvara is the Flame of Truth. She told you the truth. You know she did. You have blood of the wolf. Your mother's forebearers never mocked with it. Words of House Stark speak of it." Melisandre gazed at him.

"This prince that was promised... to whom does it refer to? Surely not to Stannis Baratheon as you once believed... or was I misinformed of that belief?" Dany asked.

"Prophecies are dangerous things. But you have a role to play, Aegon and Daenerys Targaryen. Role which you cannot escape from." 

"What role is that?" Dany asked. "I hope you will not say bringing the dawn..." Jon added. 

"You must face the enemy from the north." priestess said in grim tone.

"The Boltons?" Jon blurted which made Melisandre to give a hint of smile and slowly shook her head:  
"Those beneath the flayed man banner have killed the king, one I have served for years. But they pose a threat to you same as shield made of paper scroll would pose to a hailstorm. The enemy from the north is ancient and now is awoken from his thousand years long sleep. He comes and winter, night and death are coming with him." 

Jon sighed: "The White Walkers... As far as I know the only man who claimed to have seen them was a deserter from Night's Watch, one my father... one lord Eddard Stark has beheaded as law demands." 

"No, Prince Aegon..." Melisandre told him "...others have seen them as well. And fought them. The Night's Watch." 

Dany's eyes widened and she looked at Jon who was not convinced: "It is duty of the Night's Watch to defend the Wall, aye, but also it is their duty to report to the Realm of White Walkers returning, to raise all the hosts of men."

"Hosts of men were too busy fighting in the War of the Five Kings..." Melisandre told him "...no one paid much heed to occurrences on the Wall and beyond. Superstition, that is how those in the Red Keep have called it." 

"Then why should we pay any heed?" Daenerys asked. 

"I have brought a letter for you. From the Wall. I took refuge there after Stannis was defeated at Winterfell.  
A man of the Night's Watch gave it to me. He urged me to pass it to you as I was traveling south." 

"A letter? From whom?" Jon wanted to know.

"A hand that wrote it is no longer living. Maester of Castle Black. One that was born as Prince Aemon of House Targaryen." 

"Maester Aemon died?" Dany's voice echoed with sorrow.

"Yes, Queen Daenerys, he joined his ancestors. But before his death, he wrote a letter for you and the Prince." Melisandre nodded.

"And you have read this letter?" Jon asked her. "No. There was no need. I know what the letter says." 

Priestess reached into her robes and pulled out a scroll wrapped in animal hide, then she gave it to Dany. 

"You shall remain on Dragonstone, priestess Melisandre, you have our hospitality and it is likely we shall speak again." young queen told her.

"As you wish, Your Grace. Though it is time for me to return to Volantis." 

"You shall. In a due time." Jon replied. 

_To Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of Meereen.  
My dear great- grandniece, I have received your letter and it gave me the last great joy of my long life, to know that even with my flame dying there is a fire rekindled across the Narrow Sea. I know what dragon hidden among the wolf pack means. One of the wolves was my sworn brother and he told me of a bastard boy who was to join our ranks. Last Dragon was very dear to me and if his son takes after his sire, daughter of the storm could not have found a better man. My children, my young dragons, I wish I could be there with you to give you guidance and good advice, but fate wishes it not. I am nearing the end of my days and it is my duty to write you of something that troubles me and I wish that you as future of Westeros be aware of it._

_Mayhaps it will seem odd to you how maester of the Citadel writes of things that many consider to be part of myths and legends, but it was my message which has brought Stannis Baratheon to the Wall and in the North. Other rulers of Westeros have ignored it. I beg you not to be part of that lot. Night's Watch battled them and sworn brother who writes this letter for me has slain one of them. One of ancient enemies of men. The White Walkers have returned to bring death to the world. A man of learning and knowledge should question, doubt and investigate all things around him, yet not when it concerns the words of honest men. And my sworn brothers, those who have faced the enemy north of the Wall, are honest men._

_It was the threat of White Walkers that has made wildlings to rally together and attack the Wall numbering tens of thousands. Stannis broke them with his knights, many were captured, more have scattered in the forests. I fear none of them is living anymore. They are now wights, corpses that walk and do bidding of those we also know as Others. My dear children, do not take my words as ramblings of a decrepit old man whose wits have left him. Take them as they are, words of an old dragon to his young kinfolk, words which say that once dragons return to Westeros, their gaze must be on the Wall, on the North. Seven Kingdoms, the realm of men, of living men, needs strong rulers, those that will lead them against the night. Blood of the dragon must take that lead. Targaryens are of fire, my children. Fire is love, fire is passion, fire is life. And it will battle the ice. Ice is betrayal, ice is revenge, ice is all that makes us cold and inhuman. I have all the faith in the child of storm and in the son of the Last Dragon. With you in the van, the Realm will follow.  
Aemon of House Targaryen, maester of the Citadel and sworn brother of the Night's Watch._

Daenerys wiped the tears that were coming down her cheeks. Jon was saddened as well, he sighed: "I would have met him on the Wall and neither him nor me would have known that we are of the same blood..." 

More tears were in Dany's eyes and Jon embraced her: "He died content, knowing that his family has not seen its end, let that be our comfort. And soon there will be new Aemon Targaryen in this world. May he be as wise as old dragon was." 

She smiled through tears: "Aemon Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone..." "Exactly so." Jon kissed her brow.

"What of this letter? What should we do? He wants us to rally all of Westeros against..." Dany looked at him.

"Against an enemy most of them do not believe to exist or that it has ever existed. Only Stannis came north when Aemon wrote of them." Jon told her. He was silent for a while, then he said: "A house divided cannot stand. Neither can the Realm. An army with too many leaders is as bad as an army with no leader." 

She nodded: "We must take the Iron Throne before we face whatever is coming from beyond the Wall." 

"Aye. Or all those that serve Cersei in this war as well as those that stay out of it will never join us in this... how do the red priestesses call it... bringing the dawn..." 

"They will think how all this threat of the Others is a ruse for Targaryens to conquer Westeros." Dany said.

"Wouldn't you?"

"I would..." she looked at the letter again "...Jon, perhaps it would be wise to invite that man from Castle Black who wrote this letter here. Aemon claims he has slain one of the White Walkers." 

"If he did, that would be the first slaying of a White Walker after many thousands of years. Aye, I want to meet that man. I trust Red Woman knows who he is." Jon said.

"All right. I trust Ser Jorah could bring him here. His father is... was a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Order him to go to Castle Black." 

"Good thinking. That man cannot refuse the son of Jeor Mormont. Who has the royal pardon in his possession, should anyone ask..." Jon made a grin.

Daenerys gave him a look, then sighed: "Gods be good... Tyrion called this the great game. It turns out this will be a war against the death itself." 

Jon cupped her face with his hands: "It could be, Daenērys Jelmāzmo... but first we shall do what we have planned or have you forgotten it?" 

A fortnight later, Jon and Daenerys were standing in the Aegon's Garden, beneath the tall dark trees. Around them were wild roses, thorny hedges and cranberries. Arya was there as well, same as Missandei, Grey Worm, Ser Barristan Selmy, young lord Monterys Velaryon, a mere boy and old lord Ardrian Celtigar, one they called the Red Crab. Officers of the Company of the Wolf stood watch in their best attire, same as the commanders of Unsullied and those of the Golden Company. Three dragons soared the sky over the island whose waters were now filled with hundreds of ships. Targaryen army has arrived. 

Daenerys walked into the garden, wearing white cloak with dragon embroidered on it in red thread. Underneath she was dressed in a loose gown of samite with dagged sleeves, ornate with Myrish lace. She was true image of a radiant woman who is soon to be a mother. Her violet eyes glowed when she saw her prince, standing there in garments that were black and red, but also grey and white. It was a small wedding, as both Dany and Jon have wished, but all present looked with great approval to this young couple. A small dais was placed under the pine tree, with seven-pointed star displayed on it, symbol of the Faith whose three septons have come from the Starry Sept in Oldtown to wed two Targaryens. 

Oldest of the three nodded to Jon as she came next to him: "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Arya stepped closer and Jon took the cloak from her. It was a richly ornate velvet cloak, black with white borders, with red three-headed dragon embroidered on it as well as with grey direwolf head. Jon walked around Dany and placed his colors on her shoulders. Grey eyes locked with violet eyes and those were gazes of love and affection that all present could see.

Jon was standing at her left side and Dany put her hand over his. Old septon placed the linen bind over their hands and tied it saying:

"In sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words."

Dany looked at Jon smiling:  
"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."  
Words came from her lips, as she said them that day when young dark-haired sellsword came to her tent before Yunkai came to her mind.  
That man was now saying same words. And then they kissed.

Garden echoed with hands clapping and cheering for the newly wed couple. Arya and Missandei were first to congratulate.   
  
"Even if he is not my brother by blood, you are now my good-sister. I can't call you good-cousin, can I..."  
Stark girl jested as she gently embraced Dany "...and do give birth already, I want to see how Jon will handle a bawling babe."  
That made both Dany and Missandei to laugh aloud. "Soon, Arya, soon we shall see if Aegon is brave enough to face a hatchling..." Daenerys said watching how Jon receives congratulations from his officers. 

Princess Lyaenys of House Targaryen was born with dark hair and lilac eyes while her twin brother Prince Aemon came with tuft of silver hair and his father's grey eyes. They were born on the eleventh day after their parents wedding. It was a day of clear skies over Dragonstone, even the wind was mild that day. Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion circled over the Dragonston castle and all who could hear them that day could have sworn the dragons were singing. 

Missandei was with Dany during childbirth while Arya asked not to be present saying:  
"That is not me. I'll teach them to wield a sword the same day they start to walk, but I'll be of no use now."  
That amused Dany and in truth Arya was not needed, not with both Westerosi and Essosi midwives at her side.

When Jon came to the chamber where Daenerys was resting, he knelt at the bedside:  
"Dany... they are perfect... īlva tresy se īlva tala. Se hemtubis hen īlva lentor." 

She smiled and said in near whisper: "Yes, Jon... that is so... our son and our daughter.. the tomorrow of our family." 

Jon kissed her hand: "I love you, my queen."  
"And I love you, my king." Then he kissed the head of Lyaenys and Aemon, babes were sleeping in Dany's arms.

"So... what now?" she asked. 

"Now we have a two lives to protect from all those that bring death. With blood or with fire, but we shall protect these lives.  
And many other lives." 

"We shall. If that is our destiny, so be it." Daenerys Stormborn said looking at three Targaryens, the blood of her blood. 

**THE END**


End file.
